The Hellmouth
by Shemyaza1
Summary: This is a continuation of Tales of the Modern Silmarillion featuring Eonwe, Kim and the gang in a new adventure and they are joined in this particular story by characters from Joss Whedon's Buffyverse. **Updates are being delayed due to author being ill
1. From Beneath You It Devours

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **I've had some interest in the story from those who don't normally read Tolkien fanfiction or who haven't read Lord of the Rings or may not have seen the movies. Because these readers won't be au fait with the characters from Tolkien, I have put a glossary of characters at the end of this first chapter. Please scroll down and read if you are not familiar with Tolkien's work or characters.

ooOoo

" **Buffy:** Well, I gotta look on the bright side. Maybe I can still get kicked out of school!  
**Xander:** Oh, yeah, that's a plan. 'Cause lots of schools aren't on Hellmouths.  
**Willow:** Maybe you could blow something up. They're really strict about that.  
**Buffy:** I was thinking of a more subtle approach, y'know, like excessive not studying?  
**Giles:** The Earth is doomed! "

_**- Welcome to the Hellmouth, #1 Buffy the Vampire Slayer**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 1 – From Beneath You It Devours**

**Somewhere in the North West of Scotland...**

Thin whip-like branches lacerated her face spraying droplets of water into her eyes which she tried to dash away with one free hand; she could feel the sweat pouring down her back and could hear her heart hammering and the blood whooshing around her body as she pelted through the underbrush and darted along paths using a zig-zag pattern in an attempt to avoid capture.

A row of grey headstones appeared amorphously through the sheets of rain in front of the path of her headlong flight from danger and she cleared them in one bound. She couldn't hear any sounds of pursuit any more, not that they had been loud anyway; she was making more noise than her pursuer, but just because it was quiet didn't make it any less deadly. She had no idea what it actually was, just that it had come from below, possibly from the network of sewers that ran under the cemetery and the adjoining town.

A building with dimly lit windows loomed up a few hundred yards in front of her. It looked like a house of some kind, probably where the caretaker lived. _Now _she had a choice. She could either hammer on the door and hope to god that the people inside wouldn't think she was a complete lunatic or she could run on and scale the eight foot fence that surrounded this particular cemetery. Once outside the gates there were cheerfully lit streets, shops and houses. It was only just after nine o'clock in the evening, restaurants, cafés, bars and cinemas would be open. It was a big town and there would be people...lots of people.

Where there was life, there was hope.

Just a little further. She urged herself on despite the fact that her breaths were now coming in heaving gasps. She was no slouch in the running department, being pretty athletic, but she knew that whatever was chasing her was faster still, it would eventually catch her and swallow her up.

She threw a swift glance over her shoulder and nearly froze in terror when she saw how close it was; she would _never_ make the gate, not before it got her. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw two things.

Firstly she saw a man wearing a hooded puffer jacket, carrying a torch moving across the ground in front of her. Almost as if time had decided to go slow to allow her to take everything in she saw him pause and swing the torch in a leisurely arc around him as though he had heard something and was trying to peer through the rain and the gloom to see what it was. If she'd had enough breath left in her, she would have shouted a warning to him, but he probably wouldn't have heard her through the drumming of the rain anyway, so she saved her breath for running.

The man walked on a bit further and she strove to close the distance between them, but now she felt as though she was running through treacle with her doom following behind her, dogging her heels. An involuntary sob erupted from her but the small desperate sound was lost in the depths of the darkness and the incessant thrumming of the steady rain. Then she saw him stop dead and turn around. He had obviously heard or saw something because lifted the torch and played it on one of the stone mausoleums, she prepared herself to shoot past him to get to the fence, but instead found herself slowing down. Panic hit her and she desperately tried to move her feet faster.

Even when she felt a burning sensation on her shoulder followed by searing, intense pain, she couldn't make herself run faster, so instead she tried to change direction just as the man, obviously some sort of caretaker for the cemetery reached the door of the mausoleum and put out a hand to turn the large ring handle in the middle of it.

Secondly, as he reached out to turn the handle, she saw the door fly open and a bright bluish coloured light streamed out, bathing the immediate area in front of the mausoleum in brightness. With a final sob and spurt of effort, she managed to drum up the adrenalin to speed up and head for the light. Surely where there was such bright light, the darkness couldn't prevail? As she hurtled past the now startled caretaker she saw his mouth move but had no time to listen to the words. She flung herself into the mausoleum; the darkness which had attached itself to her and had been preparing to draw her in withdrew as if burnt and she lay in a sobbing, breathless heap against one of the stone sarcophagi.

The caretaker was still standing in the doorway, mouth hanging slackly open and torch held loosely in one hand. "What the fuck? What the hell is going on?"

He didn't manage to say any more and to her horror and even as she opened her mouth to shout a warning, a finger of the billowing, shapeless blackness that had pursued her across the cemetery clutched his shoulder and dragged him into it. His scream of agony petered away and she scrabbled backwards against the far wall trying to make herself as small as she could.

Where the light was coming from was _anyone's_ guess and in another time or situation she might have wondered at it, but right now she was just thankful it was there. She curled up in a small defensive ball and tried to conceal herself as best she could even though it was quite clear that just as _it_ couldn't come in, _she_ couldn't leave. She lay there shivering as though she had a fever until reaction finally set in and the pain from her shoulder came back a thousandfold. It was beyond any pain she had ever felt before, and she was no slouch in the pain department either, and she literally passed out as wave after wave hit her.

She never saw the metal grille door which led down to the sewers slowly creak open. If she had, she would have seen that the light was emanating from there and it was getting stronger. As it was she was too unconscious to care.

ooOoo

As a general rule graveyards and cemeteries are quiet places inhabited as they are by only the dead. At least that was the commonly held opinion by most of the living. During the day they were host to scores of stately black funereal vehicles, people dressed in mourning and sombre of demeanour and, incongruously, bright sheaves and bunches of gaily coloured flowers. By night, the gravestones that were placed by grieving relatives as a way of marking the existence of their loved ones became eldritch things. They reared up in the gloom like broken greying teeth intermittently placed between the much grander mausoleums which could often hold a whole family for the last few generations. It had the silence of death when the sun when down

All in all, they weren't places where people usually hung out by choice, unless of course a courting couple decided to take advantage of the silence and emptiness in order to make out. Sometimes teenagers would come in on a dare to spend the night if they could manage to avoid the caretaker who regularly locked the gate at nine o'clock in the evening sharp, come rain or come shine.

This night was no different to any other, except that it was raining. Not a light drizzle, but a downfall that fell straight from the heavens and soaked everything in its path. The caretaker slowly walked from his grace and favour house beyond the main cemetery gates wearing a hooded jacket and carrying a torch. He stopped once or twice on his way to lock the gates and casually played the torch around. Just lately there had been a few rather unsettling grave disturbances and the local council had instructed him to be on his guard for...well...anything at all out of the ordinary.

The rain pattered down on his hood and trickled down past his collar. He took out a large handkerchief and wiped the rain from his face, then he sighed and carried on. Any grave robber or teenager who came out in this weather was welcome to the discomfort in his opinion. He had just passed the second row of graves which also had the Robertson Mausoleum at the end of the row when he heard a soft grating noise as if from metal grating against stone. He stopped dead in his tracks and his head swivelled around slowly.

Normally nothing in this world or the next would have induced him to go into any of the mausoleums at night, a fact which caused his teenage son and daughter to regularly mock him. Yet still, there it was, something that he as caretaker was duty-bound to investigate. He looked longingly over his shoulder at the house with the warm glow behind the windows. Inside his wife would have dinner waiting. They would eat and then watch the television while the elements howled outside.

A bright bluish light could be seen in the slits that served for windows in the mausoleum. It had been built in the style of a small mediaeval castle; a folly which never ceased to amuse visitors. There was an arched wooden door studded with metal studs and a heavy iron ring for a handle. However there was something a little more disturbing than its similarity to times past, and that was the fact that nobody from the Robertson family had been interred there for at least fifty years. The heavy door was generally locked and there was a heavy chain and padlock stretched across it for added security. The only key was held by the Robertson family solicitors. _Nobody _should have been able to gain access to it and yet there was both movement _and_ light inside.

What was more...the door was ajar

He changed direction and splodged through the puddles towards the mausoleum. He never even heard the pounding of feet behind him until a slim figure hurtled past him and flung itself into the depths of the small building. He marched up to the door, fully intending to grab whoever it was by the collar, or ear, whichever presented itself and drag them out. However when he got to the doorway the door flew open and light was so bright that his eyes were watering that he couldn't see where the intruder was.

"What the fuck? What the hell is going on?"

He never saw what took him from behind, which was the _only_ mercy he was granted that evening.

ooOoo

**Down in the sewers below the Cemetery...**

"Whose bright idea was it to come through the sewers?"

"For the love of Eru stop whining. The smell in here is enough to shrivel a man's testicles."

"...Or would be _if _you were an _actual _man."

"That is hardly fair. I cannot help it if I am of the Eldar bound to Arda till the end can I? Anyway, Elves _have_ testicles!" The tone was snippy and irritated.

A gleam of both laughter and satisfaction out having got a rise out of the Elf appeared in the other's eyes, but before he could comment there was a sound of swishing behind them and they turned to see a huge form rising from the murky, smelly waters, like the Kraken rising up in the harbour at Argos.

Gleaming sea grey eyes stared piercingly at them through ropes of dripping silver-green hair wound around with seaweed. The being, for it was clearly not human, stepped onto the narrow cement ledge that passed for a path which lay on one side of the wide and deep sewer which joined the main sewer and which ultimately wound onwards into the ocean. Neither seemed particularly bothered or concerned at the sight.

"Trust the Secondborn to spend their effluence into the oceans. The stink is almost evil all by itself." The being grumbled and there was a bubbling note to his voice which made him sound as though he spent the whole of his existence under water. "And coming across country through the sewers was the safest way. It's not like you could _sail _all the way back here is it? It's not my fault that I ended up transporting us into the sewer system. Incidentally we are all _three _of us bound to Arda till the end, so _nobody_ should think themselves special in any way."

Celeborn of Doriath and Earendil the Mariner, lately of Valinor, looked at each other and then at their companion.

"You're going to have to take on a different form if you're going to stay with us." Celeborn pointed out. "Silvery green skin and hair just aren't usual among the races here and I doubt they've ever heard of Maiar."

Osse rolled his eyes, reached out with his hand towards the Elf and flicked a lock of long silver hair back to reveal Celeborn's delicately pointed ears.

"Look who's talking." He scoffed. "I doubt that many modern Edain have pointed ears either _or _remember the Elves."

Celeborn yanked the hair back down over the offending organs. "At least I can hide them with my hair." He retorted. "But I do think that silvery green skin will draw rather unwanted attention to all three of us. We may have quite a way to go yet and we are _still_ not sure how to reach the Herald."

Osse sniffed the air like a bloodhound and closed his eyes for a moment. "He's not close, but I can feel him. We're in the right country at any rate."

The air around him abruptly started to shimmer and Earendil grabbed onto Celeborn's arm in alarm.

"He's going to do it again isn't he?"

Celeborn braced himself against the wall and Earendil gritted his teeth and hung onto him. "I think so, just hold on. Eru's balls Lord Osse, could you at _least_ give us _some _warning before you start changing form?"

The atmosphere compressed as Osse abruptly altered his fana to one more suited to modern Arda and the race of Men. Out in the open this wasn't usually a problem, but in the close confines of the sewer, the displacement of air caused by the alterations had quite spectacular effect. Celeborn and Earendil ended up flattened against the wall, still clinging onto each other.

"Did it work? How do I look? A little less inhuman and _definitely_ less smelly I hope." Osse turned towards the other two eagerly only to double over with laughter at the sight that awaited him. The pressure had died down, but now both Celeborn and Earendil were glaring at him and their hair was standing on end as though they had received the fright of their lives or stuck their fingers in an electric socket. "Ha ha ha...you two look so funny. That hairstyle suits you Celeborn, sets off the ears nicely."

Celeborn glowered at Lord Ulmo's Chief Maia. "_Very_ funny...ha ha. Remind me why you came along with us again?"

Earendil shivered. "I think perhaps we should try to get out of the sewers. Something feels very wrong about this place...apart from the smell that is. There must be _some_ way out surely?"

Osse looked around him for a moment and then strode along the narrow cement ledge as though he was strolling along a wide pavement. He still looked like himself, but his skin was now pale and his hair was pale blond. He had reduced the size of the fana to taller than the average tall human male and his eyes were a pale blue in colour. "There's a grille up here; a door I expect. It leads to a passage, I believe this is the way out. It's locked of course or rusty with disuse."

He rattled the grille door and yanked at it. Some of the cement that the iron grille door was buried in crumbled away and flaked to the ground.

"That's right, make enough noise so that _everyone_ hears us." Celeborn commented sarcastically.

Osse stared at him scathingly. "And just _who_ do you think is going to be wandering around down here in the middle of a raging storm?"

"You don't even know what's up there." Celeborn said, blithely ignoring the scathing note in Osse's voice.

Earendil pushed at the door using all of his strength. A few more flakes of dust scattered everywhere. "Well up there surely can't be any worse than down here. Onwards and upwards, that's what I say...ah..._there _we are..." The door creaked open an inch with a grating sound.

Osse pushed past him. "Better let me go first." He pushed the door open further with little effort and disappeared through the opening.

Celeborn and Earendil looked at each other and shrugged.

"Yes, let him go first. After all he's bigger and a lot more resilient than we are." Celeborn said as he stepped into the tunnel behind the Maia. "Not to mention being a Maia.

"And he glows a lot more." Earendil added as he followed him. "Which is _always _handy in the dark."

ooOoo

**A large manor house some five miles from the cemetery...**

"What the _hell_ happened?"

The four girls who were currently dripping all over the black and white marble tiles of the entrance hall hung their heads as they faced a small blond haired woman who was glaring at them with hazel-green eyes, hands on slender hips.

"We lost Jocelyn." One of them said in a small voice. "We were patrolling... she said she heard something and went to investigate while we carried on with the patrol. When she didn't come back after a few minutes we traced her steps, but there was no sign of her. We went as far as the gate but there was nothing. A few minutes later the place was crawling with cops."

A look of real worry flickered across the blond girl's face replacing the irritation of earlier. "Great...just _great._ We lose a girl and the cops are involved. Could it _get_ any better?" She glanced over at the tall dark-haired girl standing at the bottom of the wide staircase which ran up to the upper levels. "We need to find out if she's been taken. Dawnie?"

The other girl nodded and ran up the stairs. "I'm on it. I'll knock on Will's door as I go past. Do you want me to wake Giles?"

The blond girl shook her head. "You won't need to, I think he's awake anyway, he's in the library. I'll fill him in on the situation." She turned back to the other girls. "Okay, you guys get a shower and something to eat. I take it that you didn't find anything?"

They all shook their heads. "There was nothing to find." An older girl with close cropped red-gold curls spoke up, she had a light Scottish brogue. "Bit of a wild goose chase if you ask me, unless Joss found something of course."

"Buffy...Jocelyn..." One of the other girls started to speak, about to voice the concern that they were all feeling, but was stopped in mid- sentence.

"We'll find her." Buffy said, aiming for a confident note in her voice, but knowing that her concern was showing through. "It's not your fault Lisa, it's _none_ of your faults, she knows the rules...or she _should _know the rules by now. She should have taken someone else with her for backup especially since we have no idea what we're dealing with here. What's the first rule?"

"Don't die..." They chorused back at her before following the dark haired girl up the stairs taking them two and three at a time.

"Don't die..." Buffy murmured to herself. "If _only_ it was that simple. Let's hope it was _only t_he police who took Joss."

She huffed a deep sigh and went to find Rupert Giles who was, as usual, burning the midnight, or at least the early morning, oil buried under books in the library.

Apocalypses and big Evils came and they went, but some things _never_ changed.

ooOoo

**GLOSSARY OF TOKIEN CHARACTERS AND HOW THEY FIT INTO THE STORY**

**From the top down:**

**Eru Iluvator**- God, The One. An all powerful but non corporeal entity who can take on any form it wishes in order to interact with corporeal beings.

**Lord Manwe Sulimo**- Known as The Elder King, Lord of the Breath of Arda (Earth), head of the Valar (the equivalent of Archangels) who along with his brothers and sisters among the Valar was sent to earth to be caretakers of the planet.

**Melkor -**One of the above Valar and brother in thought of Manwe who broke away and decided he wanted sole charge of earth. He came to be known as The Enemy or First Evil and his designs on earth were dark. He wanted to create his own races, but found that he couldn't. All he could do was marr other races and make them different, e.g, the Orcs were held originally to be Elves. Melkor carried out an early form of genetic engineering. He was taken prisoner by the Valar in the first war against them and imprisoned in the Halls of Waiting and finally set free after a time by Lord Manwe when he pretended to be rehabilitated. This didn't last long and he eventually went back to his old ways, sowing seeds of discord among the Elves the majority of whom now lived in Valinor which at that time was still part of Middle-earth. Above all he coveted the Silmarils created by Feanor (whose face and form he takes on in my story) and he encouraged Feanor, who was the eldest son of the King of the Noldorin Elves to rebel against the Valar. After destroying the light of the Two Trees which was the only form of light in the whole of Arda at that time other than the stars, he eventually stole the three Silmarils aided by Ungoliante (A monstrous spider and the foremother of Shelob from the Lord of the Rings)and in doing so killed Feanor's father, King Finwe. They then fled across the Helcaraxe (the ice in the north of Valinor) to Middle-earth.

**Feanor -**The eldest son of King Finwe, the Noldoran (King of the Noldor Elves). He followed Melkor to Middle-earth in rage to get the Silmarils back and avenge his father. He took a large part of the Noldor with him after swearing an oath to Eru that he would avenge his father, an oath that his seven sons all took hence sealing their fates. He didn't want to cross the ice, so he went to the city of Alqualone to ask King Olwe of the Teleri who were shipbuilders if he could take some of his ships. Olwe refused because he perceived that Feanor was going against the will of the Valar, so Feanor and his people killed the Teleri for the ships thereby instigating the first kinslaying, i.e. Elf killing elf which had never happened. This event plus the destruction of the Two Trees by Melkor was called the Darkening of Valinor. He renamed Melkor as Moringotto or Morgoth.

**Eonwe**- Is a Maia, a lesser being, but still powerful among the Ainur, equivalent to an Angel (Angels and Archangels who serve Eru in the Timeless Halls). He is the Chief of all the Maiar and the Herald to Lord Manwe.

**Kim**- She is one of my original characters and Eonwe's human wife. You would have to read A Singular Honour to hear their story. They have two children, a girl called Almare, Allie for short and a son called Daeron.

**Osse**- The Head Maia for Lord Ulmo, a Valar who was Lord of the Seas and Waters of Arda.

**Earendil** - Father of Master **Elrond**of the Lord of the Rings fame. He was part Maia, part human and part elf. Originally born in Middle-earth, his parents were Idril, the daughter of Elven King Turgon, and Tuor a warrior from the race of Men. Earendil married Elwing who was half-elven, the daughter of Nimloth (an Elven maiden) and Dior (half elven son of the mortal Beren and the Elf maiden Luthien). So Elrond and his brother Elros were descended from all three of the major races of Middle-earth) Earendil was a mariner and he sailed his ship Vingilot to Valinor to plead for help from the Valar to stop Melkor from spreading his darkness and evil all over Middle-earth and enslaving all the other races. It was his plea that led to Eonwe being in charge of the armies of Valar in the War of Wrath in Middle-earth. The army of the Valar fought against Melkor and eventually captured him, but unfortunately the battle was so fierce that part of Middle-earth was plunged under water. Melkor was returned to the Valar for his second judgement and was then thrown into the Void, where, in my story, the hell dimensions that have the demonkind that Buffy fights, exist. The humans who fought for the Armies of the Valar were then taken across the sea to an island that Lord Ulmo rose from the waters. The island was shaped like a five pointed star and was called Numenor. Earendil and his wife Elwing who had possessed the third Silmaril and who had jumped into the ocean with it leaving her two young sons, Elrond and Elros, behind rather than give the Silmaril to Feanor's sons, Maglor and Maedhros, were not permitted to return to Middle-earth and were given what was known as the Doom of the Eldar, i.e. they were counted with the Elves despite their human blood and were made immortal.

**Celeborn**- Father in law of Elrond. He is what they call a Sindar Elf, originally born in the city of Doriath. Doriath was the Kingdom of the Elven King Elu Thingol who was the brother of King Olwe (the Elven King with the ships that Feanor took). He is married to Galadriel, who was the daughter of Arafinwe and Earwen and the niece of Feanor who she followed to Middle-earth.

**Finrod Felagund** aka Detective Sergeant Finrod of the British Metropolitan Police from my stories - He is Galadriel's eldest brother, Feanor's nephew and the grandson of King Finwe. His father is Arafinwe, who was Finwe's son from a second marriage to an Elf maiden called Indis. His mother is Earwen, daughter of King Olwe (the elf with the ships). Finrod was also known as Prince Findarato Arafinwion. The patronym on the end means that he is the son of Finwe.

**Amarie**- Is Finrod's wife. She doesn't have a large part in my story, but she is mentioned.

**Jim Moore**- Jim is not one of Tolkien's characters. He is an original character and a young British police officer who got involved with Eonwe and Kim in my first story, A Singular Honour. He was a police constable in the first story, but is now a Detective Sergeant. His best friend and partner in crime is Finrod.

**Sauron aka Rupert Giles**- Is of course Buffy's Watcher, but in the times of Middle-earth, he was a Maia and followed Melkor to Middle-earth, where he became his second lieutenant. At the end of the War of Wrath Sauron went to Eonwe, the Commander of the army of the Valar and begged for mercy and forgiveness. Eonwe said that he didn't have the remit from the Valar to give such forgiveness to one of his own kind and that Sauron must travel back with the army and seek such forgiveness with the Valar themselves. Unfortunately Eonwe didn't imprison him, but let him go on his own recognisance. Sauron fled the battlefields and disappeared only to re-emerge a few thousand years later, as the Dark Lord of Middle-earth and maker of the One Ring.

He was of course finally defeated after Frodo threw the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom, where it was forged. In my story his spirit was taken by Eru's command directly to the prisons on the seventh level of the Timeless Halls instead of facing the punishment of the Valar in Valinor. The Valar would have thrown him into the Void along with Melkor, but Eru decided to give him a chance to make amends, which he did, after eons of being prisoner by Eru, by rescuing Eonwe and Kim's small daughter, Almare or Allie as she is known, and an American CIA agent called Catherine from a rapidly arising new Dark Lord called Herumor (You would have to read Dark Power Arising for that part of the story). Sauron was then given the choice by Eru and his chief Ainur to make final recompense by becoming the Watcher for Buffy Summers on modern earth. He accepted and finally, after one heroic act at the end of Dark Power Arising (second of my stories), he sacrifices his life as Rupert Giles and is taken back to Valinor where he undergoes judgement by the Valar who offer him a choice between remaining in Valinor as a Maia or returning to earth in a wholly mortal form to continue to help Buffy, who is, as you know, the warrior of the people. He chooses to return to her and this is where he is at at the beginning of The Hellmouth. So Giles is originally one of the Ainur and part of the Powers That Be and was originally one of the Maia who went to earth along with Lord Manwe, the other Valar and Maiar.

**Ereinion Gil-galad** - Gil-galad was the last High King of the Noldor in Exile, i,.e. those Noldorin Elves who fled Valinor with Feanor. He never married. He went to war along with the exiled Numenoreans and descendents of Elros, twin brother of Elrond, King Elendil and his sons, one of which was Isildur in order to defeat Sauron on the battlefield of Dagorlad just outside the gates of Mordor which was Sauron's stronghold. This was called the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. Both Gil-galad and Elendil died fighting Sauron. Elendi's sword, Narsil was taken up by Isildur to fight Sauron. The sword was then shattered by Sauron and Isildur picked up the remaining shard of the sword which was still attached to the hilt and sliced Sauron's finger which held the One Ring, off.

Elrond, who was Gil-galad's Herald, tried to persaude Isildur, who of course was now King after his father's death, to throw the Ring into the fires of Mount Doom, but he refused and took it as were-gild for his family. The rest of that story is Lord of the Rings history of course. The title of High King of the Noldor in Exile died out after Gil-galad's death, although Elrond would have had the right to take up the title. He refused it and withdrew to live in Imladris, translation of which is Rivendell or commonly known as The Last Homely House before the West.

Gil-galad would have spent time in the Halls of Waiting after his death and would then have been reborn, as all Elves were unless they had committed terrible crimes against the Valar or their own race.

**Maedhros** (Maitimo is the Quenya elvish translation) - He is the eldest son of Feanor, nicknamed Russandol because of his unusual flame red hair. He and his brother Maglor were the only remaining sons of Feanor alive at the finish of the War of Wrath. They conspired to go to the camp of Eonwe and steal the two remining Silmarils (the third one was taken to Valinor by Earendil's wife Elwing as explained above). They slew the Elven guards outside Eonwe's tent and stole the two jewels but were confronted by other Elves who wanted to slay them and Eonwe himself, who let them go. They slunk away, each with a jewel which was wrapped up and when they unwrapped the jewels and each held one in their bare hands, finally after a couple of thousand years of striving to get them in order to fulfil their terrible oath that they took to their father, the jewels were too pure to be held in hands that were staned with blood and they burned their way through the flesh. Mad with pain, Maedhros flung himself into a chasm of fire and died with the Silmaril, Maglor flung his in the ocean and lived, but his hand never completely healed.

**Maglor** (Makalaure, is the Quenya elvish translation) - He is the second eldest son of Feanor. He was known for his musical ability and his wonderful voice. He composed The Noldolante, or The Fall of the Noldor which tells the story of his father's rebellion against the Valar in which Maglor himself took part, and the exile of the Noldor from Valinor. It is particularly associated with the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, which saw Fëanor lead the first slaying of Elves by Elves in the history of that never sailed West. He remained in Middle-earth wandering the shores and guilt ridden.

**Elladan** - One of the twin sons of Elrond and his wife Celebrian. They also had a daughter called Arwen, of Arwen Undomiel fame. She married Aragorn after the War of the Ring and gave up her immortality to remain with him. After Elrond left Middle-earth, Elladan and his brother Elrohir remained behind with their grandfather Celeborn in order to stay near their sister, because they knew that once Aragorn died she would be alone and eventually would die a mortal death. There is no record of them sailing to Valinor left by Tolkien, but it was inferred that the twins later sailed with their Grandfather across the Sundered Seas and were eventually reunited with their mother and father.

**Haldir** - Haldir is the famous Elf from the Two Towers death scene in the movie at Helms Deep. This death is, in fact, a fabrication by Peter Jackson, as no Elves fought at Helms Deep during the book. Haldir is a Lothlorien Elf and although fanon fondly has him as a March Warden of Lothlorien, in fact it doesn't say that anywhere in the book. It does say that he fought on the Northern Marches along with his brothers Orophin and Rumil however. His exact origins are unknown, but along with his kin it's likely that he was born in Middle-earth.

**Nerdanel** - Mother of Maedhros and Maglor and wife of Feanor. Now in Middle-earth, living with Eonwe and Kim in my story.

**Celebrian** - Only daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, wife of Elrond and mother of Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Currently staying in Aldershot at the home of Eonwe and Kim in my story.

**Thranduil** - King Thranduil is the Elven King from the kingdom of Mirkwood and he is the father of the famous Legolas who was one of the Nine companions who set out to destroy the One ring. In my stories he did not sail to the West like his son, but remained in his beloved woods until the modern world encroached on him and he was forced to interact with humans. In my stories he is fabulously wealthy, having had thousands of years to build up his riches and when Eonwe reveals himself in Middle-earth he goes to help him, alongside Elrond and the others.

**Elrond of Rivendell** - Most of his history is given above in the section about Earendil. He was known as Elrond Peredhel, which means Elrond Halfelven, since his bloodlines, like those of his twin Elros who gave up his immortality to became the King of Numenor, were of mixed heritage i.e. Maiar, Human and Elven.

At the end of the War of Wrath Eonwe gave the twins a choice, either to be counted with the Elves, as their mother and father were, or to give up their Elven heritage and become wholly human and mortal. Elrond chose to be counted with the Elves and Elros chose to be counted with the Humans and he became their King on the island of Numenor while Elrond remained in Middle-earth and became friend and Herald to Ereinion Gil-galad.

**Glorfindel** - Once Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, he was an Elflord in the court of King Turgon who was an Elven king of the Noldor, second son of Fingolfin and brother to Fingon, Aredhel and Argon, and ruler of the hidden city of Gondolin. He is described as tall, wearing white with a gold belt and a crown of garnets, holding the Staff of Doom in his hand. He was often called "_the Wise_".

Although Turgon was originally against the departure of the Ñoldor from Valinor, he eventually did set out on the journey. After Feanor and his sons departed using the only ships, he took his people across the dangerous Helcaraxe with his father Fingolfin. He lost his wife Elenwe in the crossing and settled at Vinyamar inNevrast initially with his daughter Idril, whoeventually became the wife of Tuor and who were the parents of Earendil, before building his hidden city called Gondolin.

When Gondolin was attacked by the armies of Melkor (Morgoth) Glorfindel was among those Elven warriors who were charged with protecting Earendil and other Elves in their flight from the city. . It was at that time that a balrog and a contingent of orcs ambushed their company. Glorfindel there accomplished his greatest deed, for he saved the lives of Tuor, Idril and all the company when he defied the balrog. They fought long. Glorfindel stabbed it in the belly, but as the balrog fell it reached out and grabbed his long golden hair, pulling him back down over the edge of the cliff. He perished in the fall, but his body was borne up by Thorondor, one of the great eagles, and they buried him with a mound of stones in the pass. On that mound grew yellow flowers (possibly celandine), despite its remote location.

Glorfindel's spirit passed to the Halls of Waiting, where he waited with the spirits of the other Noldor who had died during their war against Morgoth. But because of Glorfindel's noble actions in life, his reluctance at the Exile, and his furthering of the purposes of the Valar by saving Tuor and Idril, he was re-embodied after only a short time. He had redeemed himself, and was purged of any guilt. Not only did his sacrifice get him an early pardon, it earned him great powers, so that he was almost an equal to the was eventually sent back to Middle-earth to aid Elrond and his family in their efforts against Morgoth. He was the only Elf to be allowed to do that after rebirth.

Obviously in my stories quite a few of the Elves have gone back to Middle-earth!

**The Grigori** - Any of the Grigori who appear in the story are characters from my own book and are from my imagination, not Tolkien's.

**Maksim** - Is a vampire in one of the old Eastern European covens. They are not like the vampires of Sunnydale that Buffy and the others fight. Maksim is a warrior in the coven which is run by an ancient vampire called Kiril. He ends up helping Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel and Celebrian as they travel through Europe in modern times in seach of the burial place of Arwen Undomiel. He assiss them and ends up working for Eonwe during which time he begins to redeem his soul, making him a third ensouled vampire in good company with Angel and Spike and currently the only ensouled vampire in existence since everyone believes Angel and Spike to have been killed in LA. Maksim is now a trusted aide in Eonwe's household. He is an original character of mine and owes nothing to Joss Whedon or Tolkien!

Any other characters will be introduce as the chapters go on.


	2. Demons and Angels 101

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **I will probably now run the last few chapters of Dark Power Arising concurrently with this new story in the series. Sorry for the delay but real life stuff is interfering and I have my grandson staying with me for a couple of weeks of the summer holidays. Enjoy.

ooOoo

"**Sauron****:** You cannot hide. I see you. There is no life in the void. Only death. "

_**- The Fellowship of the Ring**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 1 – Demons and Angels 101**

**Somewhere in the North West of Scotland...**

"Buffy is _so _going to kick your arse."

The girl glowered at them from where Osse had restrained her. She was currently seated on top of one of the stone sarcophagi resembling nothing so much as a drowned rat. A very unattractive and cranky drowned rat in fact. Her brown hair hung in dripping tendrils around a small face which was screwed up with more rage than anyone could have thought possible in such a small body. She positively thrummed with it.

"Feisty little thing isn't she?" Osse murmured in Sindarin. "What...or who is a Buffy do you think?"

He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded. Amusement leaked from every pore of him. The girl had put up a valiant fight, rapidly thudding her small booted feet off the shins of any of her captors she could reach, while raining down on them a string of blows and what could only have been expletives even though neither Earendil, Celeborn or Osse could make head nor tail of them. Her blows with her hands had not been as wild as her feet as Earendil had found out to his cost since one of them had impacted firmly with his left eye which was currently closing over. Those blows had been landed with precise, almost mathematical precision and power, as if this child knew _exactly_ where to hit and how much power to use to cause maximum disablement.

Osse had finally morphed back into his usual Maia form and restrained her with ease. Unfortunately being faced with a seven foot tall, silvery-blue skinned Maia with flowing pale blueish-green hair and stormy eyes had only made her increase her efforts to escape. Earendil and Celeborn, knowing full well what a Maia was capable of, released her and stood back whereupon she flew like the wind to the door intent on wrenching it open and running away. Osse didn't move from the back of the crypt. All he did was reach his hand out and it was as if someone had hooked their fingers in the back of her hooded jacket and stopped her dead in her tracks. She frantically ran on the spot for a few seconds and then slumped bonelessly to the cold, dusty stone floor. Osse sauntered over, threw her over his shoulder and dumped her unceremoniously onto the top of the sarcophagi she was now sitting on.

That was when the glaring and glowering began.

"What kind of demon are you?" The girl demanded. Celeborn detected a streak of self-righteousness in the child and was puzzled by it.

Osse raised one perfect silver eyebrow. "Did that child just call me a demon?"

Celeborn let out a grim chuckle. "I rather believe she did."

"Perhaps we should just let her go." Earendil suggested. He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation and winced as he inadvertently touched his rapidly swelling eye.

The three men could all feel the billowing darkness still flowing around the cemetery. There was no chance of the girl surviving if they let her go, but she was proving rather unwilling to recognise that it had been Osse's light that had saved her life earlier and stopped her from being swallowed up.

Osse shook his head. "She wouldn't survive and I cannot in all conscience send her out into that, even if all she does is rage at us. She is both frightened and angry. And she thinks I am a demon." He sounded rather put out by that.

"I can think of a fair few of the Noldor who might agree with her." Celeborn murmured.

Jocelyn listened to the mellifluous, musical language being spoken by these three demons and wondered at it. Most of the Potentials and Slayers were given a grounding in demon languages, but in her quite limited experience demon-speak usually sounded more harsh than this. She frowned in concentration as she tried to dredge up _anything_ she might have read or been taught to no avail. She sucked her cheeks in and the frown grew deeper. If only she had actually _listened _during the lectures on types of demon from Dr Giles and Dawn instead of blowing them off as worthless in favour of the much more exciting 'Killing Demons 101" taught by the legendary Senior Slayers Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane.

Seeing that the three rather beautiful demons were talking among themselves and distracted, she surreptitiously tried to free her arms which were held fast by...well...by nothing at all. It was obviously a spell, and spell equalled magic equalled demon in Jocelyn's rather small world view. What else could they be? You didn't have conversations or reason with demons. Demons equalled slicing and dicing. She increased the struggling, thereby attracting the attention of the demons again. They all turned to look at her and her struggles subsided. Perhaps another tack was needed.

She virtuously ignored the tiny voice of reason inside her which was telling her that if they _had _been demons why hadn't they already killed and eaten her...or whatever their kind of demon did? Instead she widened her blue eyes and allowed them to fill with tears. The bottom lip was thrust out and trembled and she tried for pouty and cute instead of 'let's kill everything that moves' mode.

It might well have worked had it not been for Celeborn who had endured a few centuries of the wide, tear-filled eyes and pouting mouth from his daughter Celebrian. He gestured to the other two to stay back and approached her, taking care to not get too close. He leaned towards her and Jocelyn's Slayer instinct immediately switched to whether she could get enough impetus and her head back far enough to headbut him. He saw the brief change of expression in her eyes and moved back slightly.

"What is your name child?" He asked quietly.

It was on the tip of her tongue to flare up and scream that she wasn't a child at him, but that would have spoiled the 'I am just an innocent lost and frightened little girl' act she had launched into. The tiny voice of reason politely pointed out that if she was _really_ an innocent, lost and frightened little girl what the hell was she doing wandering around a cemetery in the dead of night? She blithely pushed such rationality to the back of her mind, confident that she could carry the act off. She could feel the hard comfort of her stake inside the jacket and wished, not for the first time it had to be said, that potentials were allowed to at least carry an axe, or the neat sword that the older Slayers often opted to use as a weapon of choice in addition to the stake.

She tried for a winsome smile and fluttered her eyelashes at the tall beautiful demon with long silver hair and pointed ears mentally consigning everything about him to her mind so that the Watchers could look him up in their demon books or whatever it was they did. Few of the Potential Slayers were interested in the Watcher stuff. It was all about reading through mouldy old books and being boring. They much preferred the weapons and combat training, that was _so_ cool.

"Jocelyn." She lisped prettily at him and batted the eyelashes a few more times. The supreme irony that she was trying to pull the little girl lost look on three, supposedly and possible child-eating demons seemed to have escaped her. "My name is Jocelyn."

"Do you live nearby?"

She nodded reluctantly. Why would a demon want to know where she lived? Unless...she was suddenly filled with horror. _Oh my god, they want to know where we all are so that they can kill us all. That must be their master plan. _She tried to back peddle a little.

"Um..." She gulped as she desperately tried to think of something to say that wouldn't give the location of the manor away. "It's lots and _lots _of miles away...over the lake...behind the big hill. It takes _ages_ to get there." She finished off. "And there are _lots _of people there, with guns and stuff."

Celeborn's amusement showed. "Riiight." He said with a chuckle. "Far, far away, too far for us to get to do you think?"

She nodded vigorously.

"And this Buffy." The blue skinned demon had changed back to the form he had worn at the beginning. "Is this Buffy person, or whatever a Buffy is, also in this place that is so far away and from which you travelled to run around a cemetery in the middle of the night when you should be fast asleep in bed?"

She gritted her teeth. There, in all it's glory, was the flaw in the 'Little Girl Lost' plan. At this time of night most girls of her age were either tucked up in bed or at the very least, safe in their rooms.

"BUFFY IS SOOOO GOING TO KICK YOUR ARSE!"

Gone was the pout and the tear filled eyes. She screamed at them like a fishwife and renewed her struggles to free herself. Panic was beginning to set in and after a moment of blind rage the tears began to flow again...in earnest this time.

She could have staked herself for crying like a baby in front of these demons, but the little patient voice of reason was beginning to get through to her. They hadn't killed her... they had actually talked to her quite kindly and, more importantly, they had absolutely _zero_ idea who Buffy was. If they _were _demons then _why_ didn't they know? _Everyone_ in the supernatural business knew who Buffy Summers, Slayer Extraordinaire and defeater of the First Evil was.

How come did these guys not know who she was?

"Why won't you let me go." All the fight went out of her and she deflated like a balloon. Now she really _was _a Little Girl Lost. Her sobbing was real now and they could hear that.

"Oh for Eru's sake." The former 'blue skin' demon snapped impatiently and went to the door. He thrust it open and the darkness outside billowed in as far as the door jamb and then it stopped dead. To her fascinated eyes it was as though the light that leaked from the demon repelled the darkness. "Do you _really_ want to go back out in that?" He raised an imperious and interrogative eyebrow at her.

She drew back and shivered, then she shook her head. "No." She whispered so quietly they wouldn't have heard her had they not had much sharper hearing than a human being.

"Then let's have an end to this nonsense please." Osse drew his brows together in a frown. "I am _not_ a demon and neither are they. What we are, are the people who saved your tiny, frail little human body and soul from destruction and all _you've _done is hurl insults at us and given poor Earendil over there a black eye."

"I...if you're not a demon." She ventured. "Then what _are_ you? You're not human."

"No little one, we aren't from the race of Men." Celeborn answered her. "Our kind has not lived here in the place you call earth for many thousands of years. We lived here long ago, before the Ice covered the earth. I am Celeborn, formerly Prince of Doriath, an ancient Elven city long since crumbled, formerly Lord of Lothlorien, also now gone and now a Prince in the house of the Noldoran and I am of the Eldar, what men called Elves." He gestured to Earendil. "This is Lord Earendil who is of mixed race, man and elf. He is Lord of Aewellond and our exasperated friend over there by the door is Lord Osse, who is of what we call the Ainur. He is a Maia. I believe that Men refer to them as angels."

She slowly turned her head to look at Osse who nodded at her, Earendil managed a smile and a little wave.

Jocelyn was both awestruck and speechless for a moment, then she groaned and mentally kicked herself. She had just tried to whale on a bunch of otherworldly beings. Good beings, not demons and one was even a _Prince_. She had never met royalty before. No wonder the angel had managed to restrain her. She was lucky he hadn't zapped her dead on the spot.

"Are...are you the Powers That Be?" She asked in a tiny little voice.

Osse's expression became a little less stern and there was a slight twinkle in his eye. "No. We are not, if the Powers That Be are who I _think_ you are referring to."

"What are you going to do with me?" She sniffed miserably.

The three men looked at each other. Finally the one called Celeborn spoke.

"Well normally we would have delivered you back home, safe to this Buffy, whoever she is or your mother."

"She's dead." Jocelyn announced bleakly. "She got killed by some demon guy who was after me because I was a potential Slayer. Willow rescued me. Buffy is the Slayer, the head Slayer, she's kind of in charge of us."

Celeborn exchanged another speaking glance with the others. "All right, well normally we would deliver you back to where you live, safely and unhurt. However, the creature that is outside is obviously after you, so we must come up with another plan." He turned to the others. "Sewers?" He asked in Sindarin.

"It has to be." Osse nodded.

Earendil gingerly touched his eye and grimaced. "And if it _came_ from below? What then? Are we not just taking her into danger down there?"

Osse dropped his chin to his chest and thought for a moment. "If it's up here and still thinks she is in here, then it won't be down there will it? I believe I can produce a glamour which will keep it here until daylight. That will give us enough time to travel through the sewers and emerge into daylight. We will rethink it from there. Once we are on the surface again we _must_ contact Eönwë. No doubt he will be able to send some form of transport for us and we can deliver her on the way."

"I suppose it's possible we could stay here until daylight. The sun should have risen in a few hours." Celeborn suggested.

A sound...in fact a number of sounds had begun to manifest themselves in the distance. A strange sort of strident wailing noise which pierced the drumming of the rain. They all heard it, including Jocelyn who had gone even paler than she was already if that were possible.

"No." They turned to look at her. Her expression had turned mildly fearful. "We need to go. _Now_. That noise you're hearing? It's the police. The caretaker...his wife...she must have come out to see where he was. He was the man who got swallowed up..." Her voice fell away.

Osse looked queryingly at Celeborn whose face had turned grim. "The police are the law keepers of modern Middle-earth. We might have a problem trying to explain who and what we are." He looked at Jocelyn. "Which does not explain why you are fearful child, do you have something to be afraid of?"

Jocelyn shifted uncomfortably on her perch. "Well...they don't really approve of us...Buffy and us and the others. The police don't understand what we are and what we do, but we're protected by the IWSC which is recognised by the government. The local cops give us a wide berth usually, but with the caretaker... they may think we had something to do with it. I think we'd be better taking our chances in the sewers, even if the thing... whatever it is...follows us down there. I can sort of guide us through the sewers. The vamps usually use the sewer system to move about in daylight hours."

"_Vamps?" _Earendil mouthed at the other two. Celeborn shook his head in confusion and Osse looked amused.

"Well I for once agree with the young lady, I think discretion is the better part of valour here." He switched to Sindarin. "We need to be careful. The Valar are not in a position to pull us out if things go wrong. We are as unsafe as she is with regard to the authorities here in Arda Marred until we reach Eönwë and his people. They are still unaware that anything is wrong. Lord Ulmo's instructions to me were most clear. Once here, we were on our own until we reach the Herald."

Jocelyn glanced sharply at the three men, angels...whatever. "Is there something wrong?"

Celeborn shook his head. "Nothing that you need to worry about." He said reassuringly. There was a sharp sound, like a door slamming and footsteps rapidly approached the crypt. "And I think that's our signal to leave."

Osse casually waved a hand at Jocelyn and she found she could move again much to her relief. She'd had visions of the one called Osse throwing her over his shoulder again still trussed up. She flexed her fingers and arms to get the feeling back in them as she followed them through the iron grille door without hesitation.

Just as the four of them dropped back into the sewers, they heard the door to the crypt open and then loud male voices and lights. Whatever the darkness was had obviously either allowed them through or it had dispersed. Celeborn hoped against hope that it hadn't dispersed itself back down into the sewer system. A few seconds later Jocelyn was leading them through the maze of passages that made up the sewer system under the streets of the small Scottish town of Loch Mairie.

ooOoo

**Down in the sewers below the Cemetery...**

Earendil grasped Celeborn's hand and drew him back as they hurried through the sewers. They could all sense that whatever that billowing blackness was, it was sentient and it was searching for them. So far they had kept ahead of it, but they all knew that they needed to get up to the surface.

"Do we know where she is taking us?" He asked quietly. "Something tells me that we are following her to perhaps a worse fate with these Slayers or whatever they call themselves than we would have had facing those policemen. Her group sound as though they follow no rules but their own. They might not allow us to contact Eönwë."

Celeborn frowned. "I think the same thought has occurred to all of us." He looked over his shoulder to where Osse was ambling behind them as though he was on a walk down a pleasant country lane rather than a smelly sewer. "I agree that she is obviously taking us to her people, but on the other hand there is safety in numbers. I think Osse will reassess the situation when we reach wherever we are going and then de-materialise to find Eönwë if it seems as though they may take us captive."

Earendil huffed a sigh. "Trust us to end up in the company of distrustful people. We couldn't have just popped up out of the sewer at Eönwë's feet or in front of his house could we? Oh no...we had to end up in some godforsaken place in the north in the company of the child from Hell."

They both distinctly heard Osse snicker at this comment. Jocelyn had moved ahead quite quickly. She turned a corner into a shorter passage at the end of which was a tall metal ladder which led to a circular metal covering.

"Up here." She said tersely. It was not lost on any of the others that her tense behaviour had returned. She stood aside when they caught up with her and pointed to the ladder. "We need to go up."

She was obviously waiting for them to precede her.

Celeborn climbed up and placed his hands on the metal cover, but before he could put any pressure into pushing it open, it was suddenly lifted from the other side and effortlessly thrown aside with a loud metal clang. Celeborn had no chance to react when a slim but immensely strong hand grabbed one of his and roughly pulled him up through the opening. Seconds later he was face down with his hands being tied tightly behind his back.

All Earendil saw was Celeborn's body and legs rapidly disappearing through the opening. He flashed a quick look over his shoulder at Osse who nodded that he was to stay with Celeborn. Jocelyn was too busy grinning with satisfaction at the turn of events to notice the swift interchange, nor did she immediately notice that a second later the angel called Osse had disappeared. Only when Earendil had been subjected to the same treatment as Celeborn and a blonde head had popped through the opening did she realise he was gone.

"Hi Buffy!" She grinned in delight and waved.

"Hi yourself." The blonde girl grinned back at her and looked around. "Will told me you said there was three of them."

Jocelyn's head snapped around and sure enough there was nobody else there but her. The face she turned to her boss now held an expression of complete confusion and mortification.

"There was...the one who called himself Osse. He was here a second ago." Her face fell. "I'm sorry Buffy, I didn't see him go. He must have backtracked."

Buffy held her hand out. "Never mind. Let's get you out of there and in some dry clothes. Faith and a few of the older Slayers are going to come down and track him. He won't get away."

Second later Jocelyn was standing beside the open manhole which was on the grounds of the manor house which served as the headquarters for the International Watcher's and Slayer's Council.

ooOoo

**A large manor house some five miles from the cemetery...**

Celeborn's head rocked to one side with the force of a powerful backhanded blow and Earendil winced.

"The sooner you tell me what you know and what you are, the faster the pain will end." The blonde girl's voice was harsh and it belied her pretty, squeaky clean California girl face. Her strength also belied her tiny appearance.

Earendil marvelled at the calm with which Celeborn dealt with this. "We have told you who and what we are." He repeated quietly. "Beating us to bloody pulp will not make our origins change."

She backhanded him on the other side of his face by way of an answer.

"Yeah right." Her finger stabbed at him. "_You're_ one of Santa's Elves and the other guy sails across the sky in a star. Do you think we're stupid? Now tell me what you are and who sent you. Are you some government lackey? Are they employing demons now? Not that it would surprise me."

Celeborn barely managed to keep upright, only by gritting his teeth did he remain conscious. "We are not demons."

"DON'T LIE TO ME." She yelled in his face. "I am sick and tired of the lies... What were you going to do with our Slayers? Why are you taking the Slayers and _where_ are they?" She pulled her hand back to hit him again.

A curvaceous dark haired girl, skimpily clad in a pair of tight leather trousers which revealed much more than they concealed and a waistcoat grabbed the blonde girl's arm as she brought it around in a punishing blow which definitely would have rendered Celeborn unconscious if not dead. Earendil had closed his eyes, rather than watch helplessly. They had hoped that Jocelyn's people would be reasonable, rational and grateful for her safe return. Instead they had ended up in a far worse situation. Or so it seemed. Their only hope was that Osse would reach Eönwë who would hopefully be able to rescue them.

"Buff...if he dies he won't be able to tell us _anything_. Ya need to chill out a bit. Give him a chance to talk. He can't talk if you keep whalin' on him like that every time he opens his mouth." It wasn't often that Faith Lehane was the voice of reason when it came to things like beatings and torture, but she'd had the advantage of watching the two creatures, demons or whatever they were. and more and more she had the uncomfortable feeling that they were telling the truth.

The blonde dropped her arm but she glared at Faith. "I've given them_ enough _chances Faith. Our girls are disappearing, we don't know who is doing it and now these guys just 'drop in' and happen to be in a place where we know the evil energy is focussed? It's too convenient."

"Buffy, I got a bad feeling about these guys. They don't smell like demon to me. Sure they don't smell human either, but I'm not getting the bad vibe from them at all."

Faith wanted to tell Buffy that she was tired and needed to rest and they could question the pretty guys some more the next day when she wasn't so het up, but she knew that Buffy wouldn't react well to it. She would go on the defensive as she often did these days. Unfortunately Buffy's temper was always on a short rein. Not that Faith blamed her, the senior Slayer had a lot on her plate and the recent rumours that were coming in that another Big Bad was on its way and might need the Key had not helped.

After the Sunnydale Hellmouth had imploded things had got a lot better for them. The had started to rebuild the Council of Watchers and had set up the Slayer academies to train the potentials which had poured out of the woodwork after the spell on the ultimate Slayer weapon, the Scythe, had activated them all. Until that point, each Slayer was called, one at a time and another was only activated when the existing Slayer was killed, usually in the line of duty.

The IWSC had grown rapidly, aided by the release of the original Watcher's Council funds which had been frozen in the bank. Dr Rupert Giles, Buffy's original Watcher, ran the British division of the council, Buffy and one of the original Scooby gang, Xander Harris ran the branch that resided in Scotland. Willow Rosenberg split her time between them and the Cleveland Hellmouth which was looked after by Sunnydale High's former principal Robin Wood and the Slayers Kennedy and Cho Ahn, both of whom survived the battle with the First Evil. Andrew, the nerdy little former villain and arch nemesis of Buffy worked as a Watcher under the tutelage of Giles. Faith taught and worked wherever she was needed which was currently here in Scotland.

They had four or five years of smooth running. The apocalypse in Los Angeles came and went and Faith had noticed that after finding out that both of Buffy's former loves, both vampires, both ensouled, had been rumoured to be lost in that battle, that Buffy had grown a lot harder. The soft side of Buffy was now only evident when it came to her sister Dawn, originally a form of mystical green energy called the Key, which was made human using some of Buffy's blood by some monks to protect it from a Hellgod called Glorificus who needed her to open the portals to all the dimensions so it could go home. She was fiercely protective when it came to Dawn and mostly everyone understood the situation. All in all Buffy had lost many of the things she loved by being the pawn of the Powers That Be who seemed to play games with her on a regular basis, Dawn was the only thing she had left.

She was also protective of the Slayers, so when _they_ started to go missing a few weeks earlier her stress levels started to shoot up and her temper was on a shorter and shorter leash. Jocelyn's disappearance and the level of fear the kid was feeling when Willow searched for her telepathically had pushed Buffy over the edge and wound her up tighter than a stripper's G string.

They'd all had some weird Slayer dreams about a powerful warrior, but the dreams had been so fragmented that nobody could decide whether this warrior was a friend or an enemy and the books and research told them nothing at all. Buffy, whose dreams tended to be stronger than the other Slayers, had also dreamed of a seal, very like the one that had been over the Sunnydale Hellmouth and that had set her off on her current mood of no retreat, no surrender.

To Faith's, and Earendil's, intense relief Buffy dropped her arm and Faith took the opportunity of whispering to one of the older Slayers, a redhead called Vi, to go and fetch Mr Giles.

Buffy stared at Faith. "Okay so you got a better idea? We _need_ to know what's happening Faith."

"I know we do, but beatin' the shit out of those guys is not gonna do it." She grasped the other girl by her shoulder and turned her to face the two rather battered and bloody prisoners. "_Look_ at them Buff... They sure as hell don't look or feel like any demons _I've_ ever come across. Maybe they're innocents."

Buffy stared at the two men. "But they're not human, at least _he_ isn't. And they wouldn't let Joss go when she pleaded with them. You heard Will, they stopped her, forcibly."

She pointed at Celeborn whose head was down in an attitude of weariness and defeat. The long silver hair fell about his face and clearly revealed his delicately pointed ears.

"Buff, I get it that you're worried, I get it that you feel responsible for each and every Slayer, but you need to open your eyes girlfriend. These guys might have stopped Joss from leaving, but she also said that black thing was waiting outside. It already killed the caretaker guy. Did it occur to you that they might have stopped her to save her life?"

A new voice, male this time, interrupted them and Earendil looked up in hope. Standing in the doorway was a tall man wearing tweed trousers, an unbuttoned waistcoat and roughly rolled up shirt sleeves. He was possibly in his late forties early fifties but it was difficult to tell since he had one of those faces in which age was indeterminate. His hair was brown streaked with grey and short and he wore wire contraptions over his eyes.

"Buffy? What on _earth_ is going on?" The man stepped through the doorway and the watching Slayers spread apart like the Red Sea and let him through. His gaze, which was quite stern but also kindly, rested on the small blonde girl. There was a mixture of love, concern and resignation in his faded blue eyes.

Buffy turned on Faith. "You sent for _Giles?_" There was a stinging accusation in her tone. "This _isn't_ his concern. The Slayers are our business."

"Since when is it _not _my business to be concerned about Slayers?" Earendil heard a note of steel in the man's voice.

Buffy huffed a sigh. "I didn't mean that like it sounded Giles, really I didn't. It's just...I thought you were researching and I didn't want to disturb you...these guys...they were the ones who took Joss. I'm trying to find out what they are and who sent them."

Dr Rupert Giles, Head Watcher of the IWSC stepped around Buffy and stood in front of the sorry looking Earendil and even sorrier looking Celeborn. He stared at them for a moment.

"Good lord." He looked at Buffy. "Was it _really_ necessary to beat them to a pulp just to find out their names?"

Buffy immediately looked bewildered. "Names? I never asked for their names. I don't care from their names. I care from what they are and who sent them."

Giles looked at her for a long time and although she frowned at his regard at first, eventually she began to squirm a little.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

What Giles saw was the exhaustion and bitterness behind those once youthfully joyous eyes and it cut him through to his soul. The once cheery and flippant Buffy, whose punning when she staked the vampires in Sunnydale graveyard had been inappropriate but often very amusing, had gone. A series of life altering events culminating in her actual death and then her resurrection by well meaning friends had changed her completely. She was not the same pretty girl who had enthusiastically tried to take on cheerleading at the same time as she staked vampires, killed demons and averted apocalypses. This Buffy was hard-eyed and quick to lose her temper. She took her role very seriously and her sense of humour was virtually absent. He didn't blame her for how she felt, but she was a very difficult person to either help or advise these days.

He didn't answer her, instead he approached the two men and squinted through his glasses cursing his short sightedness. He blinked in shock when he looked at the handsome Earendil with his long dark hair and massive black eye and even more so when he saw the delicately pointed ears peeping through the lustrous silver curtains of Celeborn's hair.

"Oh _dear_ lord." He said and took his glasses off to clean them as if he wasn't sure he had seen clearly in the first place.

Buffy stared at her former Watcher and a feeling of unease passed through her. "Giles?"

Giles still didn't answer her. Instead he squatted down in front of Celeborn and gently raised the bruised and bloody face. "Oh dear... oh dear... oh lord." He whispered half to himself.

"God Giles...would you stop 'dear lording' already? Tell me what's wrong." He turned to face her and she took a step back. "Oh god, what did I do? Did I do something?" She clapped her hands to her cheeks when she saw the expression on his face.

Giles stood up. "Faith, would you be good enough to escort the girls back to their living room? And ask Willow if she would join us please."

"Sure thing Boss...do you want me to come back after?" Faith had already begun to herd the curious, gaping young girls out of the room.

"Yes please." He turned back to Celeborn and started to undo the ropes that bound him.

Buffy started forward. "What are you doing? They might be dangerous."

He ignored her and instead gently lifted the Elf Lord onto his shoulder and across to a comfortable chair. Once he had settled the half conscious Elf down he went over and loosened Earendil's bonds. Earendil thanked him and immediately went over to see to Celeborn.

"I am sorry." Giles said in Sindarin. Earendil looked up in surprise.

"You know what we are?"

"Yes, I know both who and what you are." Giles replaced his glasses and sat down on the other side of Celeborn. "Buffy...she is not usually like this and I apologise for her actions, but a lot has happened to her. Enough bad things to make her very suspicious of everyone and everything."

Earendil brushed a lock of Celeborn's hair behind his ear. "Is there a healer here?"

Giles nodded. "Someone is on their way."

The sound of the door opening made him look up. Faith was back with a red haired girl in tow. She immediately came over and began to tend Celeborn.

"Buffy?" Giles looked at Buffy who was standing sullenly watching everything with a look of dark suspicion in her eyes. This wasn't the first time Giles had kept stuff from her and she was wondering whether she was being betrayed yet again. Everywhere she looked there was betrayal, or so it seemed.

She looked up at him with that dark bitter look in her eyes and once again he grieved for the bright laughing girl she had been.

"I would like to introduce you to Lord Celeborn of Doriath. He is of the race called the Eldar and most definitely not a demon. Likewise Lord Earendil who guides the starship Vingilot for the Valar...the Valar are a bit like the Powers That Be, but they don't reside in the Timeless Halls. They live in a dimension removed from earth in a place called Valinor."

"Powers That Be?" Buffy immediately reared up and spat out. "_What?_ They're not satisfied with ruining my life and the lives of those I love from afar and now they've decided to _visit_?" She jumped forward and stood in front of the two prisoners with her hands on her hips. "Let's be _best_ friends." There was a falsely cheerful note in her voice.

"Buffy!" This time Giles allowed a stern note into voice. "I believe I just explained that these people _aren't_ the Powers That Be, nor are they even from them. I just said they were _like _them. Lord Celeborn isn't a demon, he's an Elf, a real Elf, not some imaginary fairy tale character from the North Pole and Lord Earendil is called a Peredhel because he is part Elven and part human."

Buffy glared at him, only slightly mollified by the explanation and not at all concerned with the reprimand which had gone in one ear and out of the other. "And just _when_ were you going to tell me about them? And...and how the hell do you know who they are anyway?"

"I would certainly have told you if I had known they were coming here, but I didn't." Giles replied calmly. "And I know who they are because I have met both of them before, a very long time ago."

Now he had Earendil's full attention and he was as confused as Buffy was. "I...I don't believe we have met. Do I know you?"

"You probably wouldn't recognise me as I am now, but yes we have met very briefly. However I actually knew Lord Celeborn a lot better. We met in Ost in Edhil a very long time ago. At the time I was going by the name of Annatar."

The girl called Willow, Buffy and Faith exchanged a glance which clearly said they thought that he had gone quite mad, but it was Celeborn who raised his head and said one word with very great effort through bruised lips... and he put a _whole _world of meaning into that word. His eyes glittered in their sockets.

_"Sauron."_

ooOoo


	3. Elementary My Dear Finrod

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **As a reviewer has pointed out the first meeting between our group from the other two stories and Buffy and her people is a bit of a disaster and Buffy does come over as defensive, angry and prone to violence, but in her defence there is a lot of history between her, the Powers That Be and the establishment and most of it is not positive.

As explained in Dark Power Arising, The Slayer was the warrior of the people, the Champion of the Powers That Be (the good guys). However beings who are that powerful don't always see the smaller picture in the shape of the effect their decisions have on the lives and daily minutiae of the ordinary people caught in the firing line. To them the Slayer was a pawn...move her here where there is danger and let her get on with it...a few years later she dies at the hands of a vampire or a demon and another Slayer is called. She is expendable; a means to an end. To them her death was a inevitableevent in a whole chain of events and to this end, the Slayer herself was usually alone, without companions, family or emotional attachments to distract her.

The First Slayer, Sineya, had no family, no friends. She fought alone using the demon enhanced speed and abilities the original shamans gave her to overcome her enemies. Her life was one long round of violence until death overtook her and the next Slayer was called. Even later on when the Watcher's Council came into being and Slayers were given someone to train them, the most the Watcher did was teach fighting methods and record the Slayer's death. They did not become involved with their Slayers. I imagine this was because of the dangers inherent in getting emotionally involved with someone you knew was destined for a short life and a violent death at a very early age.

This all changed with Buffy. She had family, she had friends, she had a life. She ate, she shopped, she sneezed, she loved. She had a Watcher, first Merrick, then Giles, both of whom actually cared about her and who fought alongside her, as did her friends. The PTB made arbitrary decisions that impacted not just Buffy, but all of those people who were involved with her. She wasn't meant to have any other life than killing vamps and demons, but she bravely made a life for herself alongside her Slayer destiny which was constantly interrupted by the decisions made from above and which also resulted in the deaths of people close to her. So although Buffy worked for the PTB, she came to despise them for those decisions because she and her friends were the ones who had to deal with the aftermath.

So...when my story The Hellmouth begins, Buffy has managed to gain a lot of powerful ground after the battle with the First when the Sunnydale Hellmouth closed for business. She now heads a powerful organisation in which she calls the shots and is helped by her friends and the newly activated Slayers. She is no longer alone.

Of course her battles with both evil and the PTB have taken their toll on her emotionally and this is the situation into which Celeborn, Earendil and Osse accidentally fall. The young Potentials and the older Slayers are taught about demons, but like most of the very young, the girls (who are called sometimes as early as 11) are not prone to listening to the boring stuff. They have all this power inside them looking for an outlet and they want to fight because it's cool. Like most adolescents they are hot-wired bundles of explosive hormones. Like most adolescents they don't listen and they don't have the experience that Buffy, Faith, Kennedy, Vi and some of the original Potentials have developed over the years.

To Jocelyn when Giles lectures about demons what she actually hears is, "not human, blah blah blah...demon, blah blah blah". And remember that all Slayers have a sort of 'spider sense' that tells them when a being is not human. Her spider sense was set off by the inhuman Osse and Celeborn. She doesn't stop to remember Giles' teaching that not _everything_ that isn't human is a demon. She has a knee jerk reaction and relays her fears and feelings back to Willow who had been searching for her telepathically and who is then given the wrong end of the stick which she relays to Buffy. Because Buffy knows that something nasty out there is rising and taking the young Slayers she subsequently has a knee jerk reaction. Hence her treatment of 'demons' Celeborn and Earendil.

Buffy is a tad arrogant, but her experiences down through the years have taught her that as the oldest and longest living Slayer she _is _actually the best at what she does, so her arrogance is warranted to some degree. She is also battle weary. She wants peace, she wants to live her life, but of course she can't because she has a destiny. Not one she chose, but one that was thrust upon her. She's never met any of the PTB who direct her life and of course she's likely to react very badly to any representative from the Timeless Halls and that, of course, includes Eönwë and Osse. Eönwë and the others from Valinor will have to earn her trust and of course she will have to earn theirs.

So there are likely to be a few misunderstandings and frayed nerves on all sides before they actually start to work with each other.

Giles indeed has a terrible track record in his form of Sauron. However, Eru knew what he was doing when he directed that Sauron aka Annatar aka Mairon became Rupert Giles and Buffy's Watcher. Giles has not had an easy ride with Buffy at all. He had to earn her trust at the beginning (remember that she was only 15 when he became her Watcher) and then throughout her training he was directed by the Watcher's Council to do a number of things which eroded that trust which he then had to earn all over again. He was put in a position where he had absolutely no powers whatsoever. In fact he was given a number of disadvantages.

He has suffered the loss of people he cared about, including a woman that he fell in love with (Jenny Calender). He fought alongside the Slayer against evil. He has been humbled, disempowered, turned into a mortal human and has had to build himself back up. He's had to deal with hormonal teenagers, a angry resentful and frightened mother (Joyce, Buffy's Mom), his own emotions, a nasty boss (Principal Snyder), a Watcher's Council who thought he was a useless Watcher and who sacked him and a mayor who turned into a huge demon snake. He's been through the mill. Through it all he's been the gentle, tower of strength and the father that Buffy and indeed Willow, Xander, Dawn had never had. He has been brought down to nothing and then risen up through the fire to become something entirely different and completely removed from the Maia who served Aule and then Melkor and then the scourge of Middle-earth.

Events have moved on since I wrote the above. Giles has made his supreme sacrifice and has been rewarded by Eru and the Valar with redemption. He is now no longer mortal or human, but has been reinstated as a Maiar, although he has decided to keep the name of Rupert Giles. He has subsequently been sent back down to carry on supporting the Slayer and the rest of her people. Just a note, Earendil was not present at Giles's trial, judgement or reinstatement, neither was Elwing. So Earendil does not immediately recognise Giles for who and what he is. Celeborn however was there and does recognise him.

ooOoo

"I have the advantage of knowing your habits, my dear Watson," said he. "When your round is a short one you walk, and when it is a long one you use a hansom. As I perceive that your boots, although used, are by no means dirty, I cannot doubt that you are at present busy enough to justify the hansom."  
"Excellent!" I cried.  
"_Elementary_," said he."It is one of those instances where the reasoner can produce an effect which seems remarkable to his neighbour, because the latter has missed the one little point which is the basis of the deduction. The same may be said, my dear fellow, for the effect of some of these little sketches of yours, which is entirely meretricious, depending as it does upon your retaining in your own hands some factors in the problem which are never imparted to the reader. "

_**- **__**The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes**_** (1893),****Watson and Holmes in "The Crooked Man" (Doubleday p. 412)**

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 3 - Elementary My Dear Finrod**

**Police Headquarters, London...**

Detective Sergeant Finrod Arafinwion idly surfed through the recent reports on HOLMES2, the system predominantly used by United Kingdom Police forces for the investigation of major incidents such as serial murders and multi-million pound frauds. He was, as it happened, looking for something specific to do with the case he and the team were currently part of...a major financial fraud case involving top City bankers and a couple of minor Members of Parliament. It was that alone which made it a major case and Alun Davies' team had been drafted in to add their expertise. It was, as Jim Moore put it so eloquently, a huge yawn of a case and Finrod had to admit that, for his first case back on the job after returning from leave in Valinor, Jim wasn't wrong.

Ah well, at least the regimented old style sleuthing meant that he could leave at five in the evening and join Amarie at the Herald's house in Hampshire where they now resided along with Haldir, his newly arrived brother Orophin, Elrond, who was just about to take off back to Moria and rejoin Thranduil and Glorfindel on Seth Falconer's security team, Celebrian, Nerdanel, Maedhros and the not so astonishing presence of Jan Hall. A very pleased Lord Manwe and Lady Varda had presided over Maedhros and Jan's official betrothal only a few months earlier in front of a beaming crowd including Maglor and Celebrimbor and Jan's Auntie and Uncle, her only living relatives, who went through the whole thing in an overawed daze.

The subsequent promotion of Eönwë to Major-General and him taking over the post of General Officer Commanding 4 Division from the incumbent, General Sheldon meant that he and Kim had to move into the General Officer Commanding 4 Division's official residence, Wellington House, (1) which was situated smack bang in the middle of Aldershot Garrison in Hampshire, just outside of the actual town of Aldershot, known to some as 'not quite the asshole of the world, but you can certainly see it from there'.

Kim hated the large old fashioned rambling house with a passion and was grieved to leave her own home, but it was what was expected of them. She grumbled because Allie had to attend the local garrison nursery with all the other military anklesnappers, as Eönwë's Chief of Staff Colonel Roland cheerfully referred to it, and was only slightly mollified at having Chief Knowles's wife and the Chief of Staff's wife Joyce nearby to talk to. Chief Knowles was still the Staff Assistant at the headquarters, but now had special duties that meant he worked closely with the new General...namely Gary Matthews or Eönwë to those who knew him better.

However, Kim settled in with a reasonably good grace and Erestor had gone with them to help run the General's residence. Although security was seen to by the Royal Military Police and a contingent of guards from the local barracks who took in a route which included the General's residence on their usual nightly stag, Orophin was also going over to the house to provide some personal security along with Maksim, the vampire, now ensouled. Both Orophin and Maksim would move into the General's official residence.

They had all now seen Lord Manwe and Lady Varda off back to Valinor after a good year's visit during which Almare had been spoiled to death and the birth of Kim and Eönwë's son Daeron, who had been born almost a year to the day of the battle in Moria and who now now a rumbustious toddler deep in the middle of the Terrible Twos and the bane of his now six year old sister Almare's life. Not to mention the bane of his parent's lives. All was quiet for the time being and life rumbled on with few complications other than extreme exhaustion for the Herald and his wife.

Yes. Finrod mused as his gaze flicked swiftly over crime reports and requests for information in amongst descriptions of suspects on HOLMES2. _Everything's quiet on the western front...must be time for another major evil happening or something._

He was more than happy for something evil to turn up and at least give them _something_ besides fraud, common or garden burglaries, assaults and the like to get their teeth into. Even a good serial killing would be better than nothing...he stopped dead in his perusal of the reports and sucked in a deep breath, not so much for the fact that he couldn't_ believe_ he was actually wishing for a serial murderer to pop out of the woodwork; or even for the police report of a murder way up in the wilds of Northern Scotland...a particularly brutal murder which had taken place in a cemetery in the small town of Loch Mairie.

No... it was the photograph of a prime _suspec_t in the murder case that made Finrod Felagund's eyes nearly start out of his head like chapel hat pegs.

He reached for the phone and swiftly dialled Eönwë's private line, hoping to Eru and all the angels in the Timeless Halls that the Herald would be in his office at that time of day.

His luck was in, the voice that answered was that of Eönwë and not his Military Personal Assistant.

"Eönwë." Finrod tried to keep the excitement and disbelief out of his voice. "You're never going to guess whose face I've got staring out at me in a mugshot."

ooOoo

**The Loch Mairie Police Station in the North West of Scotland...**

"Still no' talking is he?" The Chief Superintendent of the Scottish police in the area of Loch Mairie had arrived from a meeting in Edinburgh. He jerked a thumb towards the plain black metal door with small grill where the alleged murderer of one Robert Logan, caretaker of the Loch Mairie cemetery, now resided in solitary splendour, well dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit that was far too short for him in both arms and legs and far too large around the middle.

The Detective Chief Inspector of the local Loch Mairie police managed to extrapolate the Chief Super's actual meaning from the garbled construction of his sentence. shook his head and managed a fairly garbled reply of his own in a deep Scottish burr.

"Aye...he's no' talkin' tae nae one."

The miracle of the double negative had obviously not been hammered home to either of them in school but since both knew exactly what the other was trying to say it hardly mattered.

"No papers, no identification of any kind?" The Chief Super thumbed through the abysmally slim folder. "And not much evidence other than the fact that he was caught going through the sewers? No weapon of any kind? Precious little tae go on in here. Does he give a _name_ by any chance?" Weapon was pronounced 'weepon'.

The DCI blanched at the barrage of questions and silently pointed to the front cover of the folder.

"O S S E." The Chief Super spelled it out and then looked up, grey eyebrows drawn together in a fierce scowl. "What kind of bluddy name is that? No last name?"

The DCI shrugged. "He says he dis'nea have a last name. Just Osse." He pronounced the name as Orssy.

"Well okay then...have you...er...interviewed our Mr...er...Orssy yet?"

The DCI shook his head. "No sir, we have'nae, we were thinkin' you might like tae dae that seeing as he's a bit..weell..._unusual_." He pronounced the last word as if he was describing some exotic, completely unknown creature.

"Looks like any typical long haired lout tae me laddie." The Chief Super squinted at the mugshot. "Aye well, I'm guessing you've already put this out on HOLMES?"

The Detective Chief Inspector immediately latched onto the one positive aspect of the whole sorry affair.

"Aye that we have." He answered eagerly. "We've also sent his clothes down tae the SOCO people in Aberdeen for them tae process. His fingerprints aren't on file. No priors, but then we have'nae been able tae establish a proper identification for him tae _see _if he _has_ committed any other crimes somewhere else. No fixed abode. When we asked him where he came from he just said over in the West."

The Chief Super perked up at this. "In the West...you mean over the _sea_ in the West?"

The DCI sighed deeply, they were back in the realms of 'I don't know Sir.' again. "Aye, that's what he said...over the sea tae the West."

"There you are then. He's a bluddy American." The Chief Super declared triumphantly, "Probably from New York or some such place."

The DCI was about to mention that the prisoner didn't sound American and that he had no reason to travel from New York just to murder a cemetery caretaker in the wilds of Scotland, but decided better of it. The Chief Super would soon see for himself. He didn't envy the senior officer facing this strange very tall, awfully nice to look at creature who looked alternately bored and amused when anyone spoke to him and whose eyes could freeze your bollocks right off from in between your legs.

As they walked down to the interview room the DCI bent over to the Desk Sergeant. "Better have a wee dram ready for the Super when he comes out, ye ken?"

The Desk Sergeant, a large burly man with a large ginger handlebar mustache snickered and nodded. He reached for the keys to the storeroom.

ooOoo

**A large manor house some five miles from the cemetery...**

Earendil looked at the apologetic, unassuming looking man with the kindly blue eyes and understated manner of dress and tried to equate everything he had ever heard or known about the infamous Dark Lord Sauron with what he was seeing. Surely Celeborn wasn't referring to_ this _man?

"Sauron?" He finally said, his confusion was evident in his tone and his face.

Celeborn sipped the water that Willow handed to him and looked at the white tablets she held out with some suspicion.

"They're just ordinary painkillers." Willow smiled encouragingly at him. "I don't want to give you anything stronger in case of concussion."

Celeborn nodded wearily and swallowed the two headache pills down with some of the water, then he leaned back in the chair and watched the Maia who had been Sauron fend off the girl called Buffy's fairly indignant argument with patient dry humour. The last time he had seen Sauron was in Máhanaxar when he had been granted redemption. Celeborn had not been convinced then, but watching Buffy and having suffered under her not so gentle methods of interrogation, he was beginning to see why the Valar had done what they did. She was obviously quite unbalanced mentally and anybody dealing with her would deserve a medal. His head was aching far too much to listen to the bulk of the argument which was being held in stage whispers, but he got the gist of the fact that Sauron...no...Giles was busy mildly chastising the girl called Buffy for taking actions without telling anyone.

"I _did _tell someone" Buffy's voice rose again and Celeborn winced at the slightly strident note in her voice. "I _so _told a whole _lot _of people...people who go out there on a daily basis and risk their lives to patrol while demons crawl out of the bloody woodwork at them...oh for god's sake...now I'm channelling you. Or Spike."

Faith and the red-haired girl who was called Willow and who looked vaguely familiar to Celeborn both snickered. Their snickering grew louder when Giles took his glasses off and started cleaning them furiously.

"Be that as it may Buffy, you didn't tell _me_ that we had apprehended anyone. Perhaps if you had, I could have saved everyone a lot of bother and Lord Celeborn a lot of pain."

Buffy turned around and glared at Celeborn and Earendil. "Oh...yeah...and while we're talking about that...which...I know we weren't, but... you know...need to know and I need to know; who the _hell_ is Sourplum and what does he have to do with you?"

"_Sauron."_ Giles, Celeborn and Earendil all automatically chorused at the same time.

Buffy scowled and she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "_Whatever._...Sourplum, Sour-rum...what the hell difference does it make? Who is _he_ and why did blondie over there call _you_ that?"

_Blondie?_ A highly affronted Celeborn mouthed at Earendil who stifled the chuckle that rose to his lips with great difficulty.

Giles didn't answer immediately. A distinctly uncomfortable expression flitted across his face and he resumed cleaning the glasses until Faith firmly took them off him.

"Yo... G-Man...you clean them any more and they're gonna disappear completely. B does have a point you know. He definitely called you...that name...and you do seem to know who _they_ are. You tell us they aren't demons and I agree that they don't feel like demons, but a little explanation, ya know...would go a long way." She carefully propped the pristinely clean glasses back on Giles's nose and then stood back critically with her head on one side. "Yeah, now they look damn fine to me."

Giles huffed a sigh and then allowed a small grin to turn the corners of his mouth up. "Thank you Faith. I am truly not sure what I would do without you." His tone was mildly sarcastic.

Faith sniggered and Giles put a hand out to Buffy who stared down at it, but made no attempt to take it at first.

"Buffy?" There was an ever-so-slight note of pleading in his voice. "I am happy to explain as much as I can to you, but I think perhaps that we need to do it somewhere a little more comfortable. I am sure that Earendil and Celeborn would appreciate getting cleaned up and perhaps some food. Once they've eaten and feel more refreshed we will re-convene in the library and I will tell you everything."

Buffy stood for a moment, still scowling deeply, but then slowly her expression cleared and she smiled at Giles. In that moment both Celeborn and Earendil saw a magical transformation from a terrifying female warrior capable of great harm to a small, slim girl with golden hair and a bright smile and a affectionate expression in her hazel-green eyes when she looked at her mentor.

"Okay...if you put it like that, I guess I can hardly say no. I guess they're not really any threat." She still managed to inject a small grumble into her tone at which Giles just smiled. "But I still think they need to be guarded...just in case. Just until I get a good explanation of all of this and why they..." She pointed at Celeborn and Earendil. "...were down in the sewers...and also what happened to their friend who ran off. In my experience people who run off have something to hide."

Celeborn made a strangled sound at that juncture which made Buffy turn to him, both hands on hips and a question in her eyes. "_And_...we have a counterpoint?"

Celeborn opened his mouth, Giles took in a deep breath and prepared to rush in, just in case, to smooth things over again, but it was Earendil who managed to silence the silver-haired Elf Lord before he put one shapely Eldar foot in his mouth. He surreptitiously kicked Celeborn on his ankle to which the Elf Lord instantly glared at him, but Earendil shook his head in warning. Celeborn sighed, reluctantly took Earendil's point and subsided, although the expression on his face was mutinous to say the least.

"No _indeed_." Earendil assured Buffy hastily. "I can assure you that getting cleaned up and something to eat would be most welcome...I thank you...for _both_ of us. And of course we will explain everything that we know to you...willingly."

Buffy looked slightly mollified and Giles slowly let out the breath he was holding in. He smiled at Earendil in relief. "Well then, if that's settled, perhaps Willow, you and Faith could show our guests where they can refresh themselves and Buffy and I will go and organise food?"

Buffy pouted. "I'm not cooking anything...me and cooking are _very_ un-mixy things." She said as she left the room, trailing behind Giles. "Of course, if you want somebody poisoned..I'm your gal. Dawn won't let me cook anything any more, she says that my food is lethal..."

Celeborn and Earendil exchanged speaking glances, but the dark haired Faith gestured for them to precede her out of the room before either could say anything.

"After you guys. Willow will lead the way."

As they walked along a wide, half wood panelled corridor Willow suddenly turned to Earendil and Celeborn.

"Hey." She smiled at thembrightly. "Do I... like..._know _you guys from somewhere? You look _really_ familiar."

ooOoo

**The General's Residence, Aldershot, Hampshire, England...**

"Well it certainly _looks_ like Osse, but what the hell is he doing here and in custody for murder for Eru's sake?"

Eönwë's face was a study in bewildered astonishment and unfortunately neither Jim nor Finrod could actually enlighten him any more than the printout of the police report they had handed to him. The Herald perused the report thoroughly and then put it down on his desk with a deep sigh. He dragged his hands through his already very short hair in exasperation.

"How easy would it be for you to involve yourself in this? Does Alun know yet?"

Finrod shook his head. "He doesn't know because he isn't back from leave yet. He doesn't come back to work until tomorrow. Jim and I thought it important enough to bring to you. I truly thought I was seeing things. We can check with Alun about getting involved when he gets in tomorrow morning. I'm sure it won't hurt Lord Osse to spend one night in a police cell. He could probably break out any time he wanted so I assume he's just waiting there for a reason. I just have one question though." Eönwë raised a querying eyebrow at him. "And that is...have you managed to contact any of the Valar or _anyone_ over in Valinor in the past couple of weeks?"

Eönwë frowned. It occurred to him that it had been some time since he had communed with Valinor, but put it down to being busy taking over a new, very important role and the chaos that was a permanent aspect of his personal life now, what with two small children and all.

"I must admit I haven't" He said finally. He got up and went to the window, Jim and Finrod saw his eyes silver over, a clear indication that he was communing with the Valar. They sat patiently for a good ten minutes, but when Eönwë's eyes turned their normal dark blue, they saw that he was deeply concerned.

"I can't reach _anyone_." The Herald's tone sounded _definitely_ more than just concerned. In fact Finrod knew for a fact that Eönwë was deeply worried and not a little bit distressed.

"I can't hear or reach _anyone_ at _all._"

ooOoo

(1) ** Wellington House** is just my name for the General Officer Commanding 4 Division's official residence. This is not to be confused with the real Wellington House which is a modern set of buildings in Aldershot Garrison that has accommodation for the military.

NB: **HOLMES2** is the latest version of the police database which is commonly used in police stations and headquarters across England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. There is no real direct co-relation to Sherlock Holmes the fictional detective, but it's more than likely that the name is a deliberate tip of the hat to him.


	4. Of Elves and Coincidences

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Many profuse apologies for the delay in continuing this story. I got caught up in a Twilight story and I am writing that at the same time as this one. However life again got me by the short and curlies and I've had a lot of things to do. Hopefully things will now calm down as the Silly Season advances. Also World of Warcraft Cataclysm expansion is almost out and I am smack in the middle of exploring the new Azeroth and Kalimdor..._very_ necessary I assure you all!

ooOoo

"I am neither good, nor bad, neither angel nor devil, I am a man, I am a vampire. "

_**- Michael Romkey (I, Vampire)**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 4 – Of Elves and Coincidences**

**A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...**

Willow Rosenberg was puzzled and _that_ was a sensation that she had never learned to accept. To the senior Wiccan for the IWSC, being puzzled was a red light for hitting the research or at the very least a little teensy bit of mind probing which normally wasn't a problem for someone with her considerable power...well not a problem until she had encountered the minds of the two very unusual guests that were now staying in the headquarters that is.

It wasn't so much their unusual, and in the case of Celeborn, alien appearance, it was more that she was having trouble reading _either_ of them and again, in the case of Celeborn, it was as though some highly amused part of his psyche was completely aware of what she was attempting to do and was effortlessly turning all the probing aside.

There was also the uncomfortable feeling in the back of her mind that she had met Celeborn before...or at the very least someone very like him. The vibes emanating in waves from the tall, slender yet powerful looking silver haired man...Elf...or whatever he was...were confusing to say the least and yet reeked of familiarity. She shook her head vehemently... and why on _earth_ was she having so much trouble with the idea of Elves actually existing? If demons existed then so could Elves or anything else for that matter.

The other guy with the name of total weirdness...Rendil or something like that...wasn't as hard to read initially, but every time she tried to go deeper than surface thoughts it was as if something or someone much more powerful was blocking her, yet the vibes coming from him were human...he was totally human with...something else, as if he had been or was being enhanced.

She snorted with impatience... the feeling of being diverted was not a common one for her. She debated delving into those depths of her power that were tinged with their own darkness but as soon as the thought occurred she dismissed it. Nope...whatever these two were, they weren't evil...no sirree...nothing of the evilness there at all, so no need to bring out dark veiny Willow with the black hair.

Willow sighed, it would have to be the good old 'wheedling out of information' routine then. She mentally practised the pleading look that she knew full well she could manage in spades. The widening of the green eyes, the friendly ingenuous little self-deprecating grin and the babbling...oh hell yeah...the babbling was always of the good. The babbling had been known to either make the hardest of hearts melt or, alternatively, get people thoroughly annoyed because they had no idea what she was babbling about.

She frowned, maybe not the babbling then. The trouble was that Willow-babble as Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies and Slayers termed it..was not something she had a great deal of control over. She knew what she _wanted _to say... she even practised it in her mind before she said it...then her mouth opened and a string of idiocy would burble forth from her lips that even made_ her_ want to give herself a mind-slap.

So how was she to ask her first question and not sound totally deranged?

"Sooo...what's it like to be an Elf?"

The offending words came tripping out of her blabber mouth before she could clamp her lips shut on them.

_Oh jeepers Willow...what's it like to be an Elf? Really?_

It had to be said that both Celeborn and Earendil had been watching the expressions flit across her face for the past fifteen minutes and had exchanged more than one highly amused glance with each other. Her attempts to climb inside the heads of both had been adroitly turned away. Celeborn was an ancient Elf who was well practised over thousands of years in averting the sharp mind probing of someone much more expert in the area of mind-speaking than Willow; that someone being his wife.

Earendil on the other hand was, as Willow surmised. very human except for certain abilities granted to him by the Valar and one of those was in mind protection techniques. Out of all of those resident in the Blessed Realm and indeed in Middle-earth, Earendil the Mariner came the closest to the Void and the Doors of Night which provided the barrier between that dimension and that of Valinor and Arda. It had come from Eru Iluvatar himself that the Mariner was to be given certain abilities to prevent the dynamic personality of Melkor and others behind those doors from influencing him to perhaps opening them.

As Celeborn watched Willow's very expressive face alter those expressions from a little bit cross... to puzzlement ...then cross again...right through to the little mischievous grin which immediately changed to a scowl...he was reminded very much of his granddaughter now deceased. How many times had he watched Arwen as a child, puzzling over something in much the same way? It had been the one constant delight of his life to see the myriad of random thoughts slip over her beautiful features and know that she was either planning some mischief or trying to work out some knotty problem on her own before coming to him, kneeling down and placing two childish hands on his knees.

"Daerada?" She would smile up at him and his heart would melt. He would have handed her the universe on a platter if he could have.

He drew in a sharp breath as the thought pierced him. Nobody would ever know just what a sense of loss he had endured all through the Ages of Arda when her spirit finally flew the Circles of the Earth. Yes he had stayed because Arda was his home and his birthplace, but he had also stayed because he had not wished to desert the forests that he loved, nor had he wished to desert Arwen while she still drew breath. That much he and his grandsons had in common. Even though he knew that Galadriel and Elrond had drawn on and spent their power and energy on the War of the Ring, both before and just after...there was still a huge part of him that couldn't understand how they could walk away and leave Arwen. Neither Elrond or Galadriel saw her again after the company had delivered Theoden King to his rest in Rohan, although a few mortal years passed before both Elrond and Galadriel has passed across the Straight Road along with Mithrandir and the two hobbits.

Elrond and Arwen had gone off by themselves before the company carried on their separate ways and had said their farewells in private to each other. Galadriel, with her usual aplomb, had parted from her granddaughter with equanimity and her usual calm. For some reason it had been easy for the Lady of Light to accept her granddaughter's chosen fate and not question it. Elrond had been less calm of course and the distress had shown on his face as he stood on the swan ship waiting for the ropes to be cast off. Celeborn had stood watching until the ship slipped beyond their sight, as had Glorfindel, who had stood with one arm each around a quietly grieving twin. The last any of them saw of Elrond until they were reunited with him in Valinor was the anxious pale oval of his face shining out from underneath the hood of his dark cloak.

Two people who had been among the closest to Arwen Undomiel had gone leaving the others to bear the burden of the watch and the wait for the inevitable to happen.

The child Willow's ingenuous question brought him back to the here and now with a savage jolt. Even as the words left her mouth her face took on a panic-stricken look and the laughter rippled up inside him, even as it had when Arwen had done something very similar. He carefully schooled his expression into one of courteous interest. Showing the amusement he was truly feeling would only have embarrassed her. However he was exceedingly startled by the intense desire to put his arms around Willow as he would have done with Arwen all those ages ago and reassure her that _any _question, no matter how silly it sounded, was relevant if it was important to her.

Earendil, bless him, saw the expression on Celeborn's face and immediately stepped into the breach.

"Well, I can't speak for being a true Elf, Lady Willow." He began courteously. "My own heritage is very mixed..."

Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh no..." The distress was plain in her voice. "That was _so_ much of the bad...really it was...rude...rude. That was so rude of me. Here you are...in a strange place and after being used as a punch bag by Buffy and girls and here I am saying _really _silly things that I had _no_ intention of saying to start with. I had a _totally_ different question in my head, but then my stupid mouth just started talking without even _asking_ me..."

Earendil blinked and chuckled. "No, no...not a stupid mouth...a very charming mouth and a very relevant question indeed considering that I imagine that Lord Celeborn is probably the first Elf you ever saw..."

He got no further, she immediately flushed to the roots of her hair. "No...you see...he...he might not be, only I can't remember properly. It's like I have a really really important memory and someone stuffed it away in a bag full of dirty laundry and now there's so much laundry and it's so muddled up I can't find the thought in all the mess..." Her words trailed off in embarrassment. Had she really just compared her mind to a messy basket of dirty laundry? Oh. My. Goddess. "...and there I go again with the stupid words."

Celeborn took a step forward, a small frown knitted silver brows together. He had latched onto the first part of her diatribe like a terrier grabbing a rat by the neck. "I might not be the first Elf you've met?"

He shot a look at Earendil who shrugged. Both knew what the other was thinking. Had this child somehow come across Elrond or one of the others here in modern Arda? It was feasible of course. Before sending them here with Osse, Lord Ulmo had spoken of Eönwë's task here...a task in which he was more than ably assisted by quite a few of the Elven persuasion. Celeborn's own daughter and son in law and one of their sons, Elladan, were of that group. So was Haldir, his former Warden of the Marches in Lothlorien, Glorfindel and the two eldest sons of Feanor, not to mention Finrod Felagund were also members and here in modern Middle-earth. It was not unthinkable that their path and the path of Sauron...tch...Rupert Giles's..._he really must remember that_... people had crossed at some point in time.

Willow coloured an even deeper pink. "Well...I...I just can't remember properly. It might have been a dream."

"Perhaps." Earendil's calm deep voice poured soothing waves over the sudden slightly tense atmosphere in the room. "Try not to let it distress you. The memory will come when it needs to."

"I suppose so." She said in a small voice, clearly not convinced.

The door to the room where Joss and Willow had taken their two guests to refresh themselves was abruptly flung open. Joss stood there with her trademark cocky, almost maniacal grin on her face.

"There's food laid out in the library and Dr Giles, Buffy and Xander are waiting for you. Are you ready?"

Earendil smiled at her. "Indeed we are..." He nudged Celeborn, who was still staring at Willow with a very peculiar expression on his face, hard in the ribs. "...aren't we Celeborn?"

"What?" Celeborn looked confused for a moment. "Food? Oh...yes...indeed, we are both quite famished."

He conjured up a charming smile at Joss who grinned back, vastly relieved that neither he nor Earendil appeared to hold a grudge against her earlier treachery. She stepped aside and gestured for Celeborn and Earendil to come with her. Willow followed them along the corridor and down the wide stone staircase that led to the ground floor of the large house. Her frown had deepened slightly. Celeborn's interest in her had not escaped her and what _was_ it about his and Earendil's names that she thought she should know?

She decided that she would have a quiet word with Giles about it. There was definitely some remembering going on in her mind, fuzzy thought it may be. It was like she should know both of them, but from where she would know them was a mystery.

A mystery she was hoping that Rupert Giles might be able to solve, otherwise she was going to have to risk a few black roots at the very least to probe deeper. (1)

ooOoo

As Sauron, Melkor's right hand man and then as Dark Lord in his own right, Rupert Giles had possessed the same instincts about people and feelings as he did now. Then in the dark times of Arda he had used those instincts to good effect in his efforts to draw people to him. His natural charm had worked a treat with the Smiths of Eregion, but he had always suspected that Celebrimbor saw what he wanted to see most of the time and the others merely followed suit. Celeborn and Galadriel were not taken in at all by his attitude of gentleness. Later on he had abandoned those instincts about others for autocracy and cruelty. He still had those particular traits now, but they only emerged now if people he cared about were threatened...and he did care...oh how he cared. Just let anyone try to hurt his people, then and only then did the Sauron part of him emerge in the form of Ripper, a nickname handed to him by the memories built into his new life as a mortal.

In rehabilitating him, the Ainur had first led his most powerful feelings of cruelty and malice into regret and sorrow and then finally after many millennia gently pushed him into the situation with Eönwë's daughter and the American woman. They had allowed him to watch events unfold and then when his emotions were fully engaged he had been allowed to assist them.

It had been the beginning of the end of his former life. In all of his days as a Maia of Aule and then in the service of the First Evil he had never been interested in woman particularly, even though the most beautiful and seductive of woman had been paraded for his pleasure. It had been rare for him to take even the most casual of interest. Seduction of that kind was not where his interests lay. Power was far more seductive to him than sexuality, although he recognised fully that the power of sexual seduction had its own advantages. The result of this was that, once into the rehabilitation programme, he found that he was a complete novice at relationships with the opposite sex. During the rescue of Almare and Catherine he found himself acknowledging an attraction to the rather beautiful CIA agent, but was at a loss as to how to advance it beyond their situation which was hardly conducive or even long enough for a flirtation. Of course afterwards he found himself catapulted into life with the over-active bundles of hormones called typical American teenagers and there didn't seem much opportunity to indulge in something like a relationship with anybody, especially considering that most of his time was spent either with children or demons of the evil variety.

Even when Jenny had come into his life he had found himself to be a stuttering wreck, completely unable to vocalise properly when she even just smiled at him. He also found himself in the embarrassing and unenviable position of having to take lessons in Flirting for Dummies from his fifteen year old protege before even getting up the nerve to ask her out on a date. It was very clear that nobody from his former life would have either believed or recognised the confident Dark Lord from this stuttering Englishman who was constantly in a state of nervous anxiety around women.

Jenny had been the final piece of the rehabilitated Sauron jigsaw puzzle. She had been the one to finally lead him into full recognition of his emotions, although he was more than aware that by this time he had a father's love for not only Buffy, but her friends as well. He slotted into his new self almost seamlessly and it had been the first time that he acknowledged and accessed the emotions he had as Mairon in the very beginning. Her death had been the completion of his emotional journey, the grief over her and then later over Buffy was the completion of the rehabilitation, a sad, but unfortunately necessary event.

So he was by now in tune with all of his 'children', as he liked to think of them. He knew when Buffy was embarrassed or angry and needed to vent; he knew when Dawn was feeling frustrated with her sister's over-protectiveness and had been the one to encourage her to go Oxford to finish her schooling, just as he had been the one to encourage her interest in being a Watcher. He knew when Xander was mulling over his life and mourning the loss of his eye and his love Anya during the fight with Caleb and the First and he knew when Willow needed support and advice or Faith needed grounding and a safety net. He was, in all things, their mentor and he took the role very seriously indeed, also acting often as father figure and parental authority for all the other girls, some of them who were still quite young and for many of the young Watchers in training as well.

The moment Willow walked into the room behind Joss, Celeborn and Earendil those instincts homed in on the mild distress in her expression and he suspected that he knew what was behind it. The appearance of Celeborn so abruptly in their lives had started to unravel the block put on Willow's memory after the battle for the Moria Hellmouth. The Grigori Sariel had warned him that eventually the memories could re-emerge, especially if triggered off by something and the arrival of a real live Elf had apparently done just that. He sighed inwardly. He had hoped to keep her apart from Eönwë and his people for longer, at least long enough for the memory to bury itself deeper, but he was beginning to believe that the block wasn't the only thing beginning to unravel in the world.

He mentally began to prepare himself for long explanations and even longer debates about those explanations. Telling Buffy and the others about his past was not something he was looking forward to at all.

ooOoo

**The Loch Mairie Police Station in the North West of Scotland...**

The desk sergeant of the provincial police station was not a small man. In fact he stood out well enough in the town that every single person knew who he was. Not that this would have been a difficult achievement given the size of the town. However even he was dwarfed by two of the personages who had appeared in the small reception area, one of whom held a light in his eyes that the sergeant found difficult to withstand. It only occurred to him afterwards, while telling his wife about the extraordinary happenings that day, that the light in the eyes of the tall, very imposing British Army General in front of him was also mirrored in the eyes of the prisoner who had spent most of the night in his cold cell singing songs in a language that none of them recognised, although the DCI had thought it might be a form of Gaelic. The songs themselves had every single person within earshot mesmerised by their beauty and no less mesmerised by the poignant unearthly beauty of the prisoner's voice.

The songs spoke of different things to different people. To the DCI who had been born in a small fishing village, they spoke of the ocean depths and the eerie calls of whales or the solitary cry of a gull and the ebb and flow of the tides. To the Desk Sergeant, the songs spoke of the calm still waters of the loch, the call of the hawk flying high above it and he swore he could almost see and smell the mists that wreathed his beloved loch in the early morning and early evening. Whatever memories and long forgotten emotions any of the humans who were privileged to listen possessed were drawn forth from them by the beautiful voice of Osse, raised in song.

They had absolutely no idea that they were being serenaded by an angel, but the generally dour-faced Desk Sergeant found himself opening the cell door and handing a tray with a mug of strong tea laced with whiskey and some hot buttered toast spread liberally with some of Mrs Dougray-Scott's raspberry jam which was sold at the local grocery store. Not that stuff that was sold to the tourists mind you, but the real home-made version sold to locals. He had been rewarded by a beautiful smile and a courteous thank you.

So the Desk Sergeant was sweating a lot to start with on the following morning when he'd been just about to have his own morning tea, having taken some to Osse earlier. He had been on the pointing of pouring a liberal tot of whiskey into the gently steaming mug when the bell over the door sounded. He didn't look up; it was probably MacCullaugh the Postie dropping off the morning mail, so he continued to pour a thin stream of the pungent amber liquid into the mug and only stopped when a shadow loomed over him and caused him to look up.

At first all he was aware of was that the dingy utilitarian reception area of the station had filled with light and a feeling of well-being literally infused him, body and soul. He felt like bursting into tears for the first time in a very very long time. By the time he had managed to compose himself he was treated to the next shock for the day. His mouth dropped open and his hand shook violently when he met the shining, implacable gaze of his visitor, a man of both imposing height and build dressed in military uniform and with enough red tabs and scrambled egg on the shiny peak of his cap to indicate that his rank was very very high.

His attention was so fully focused on the being in front of him the whiskey dribbled on the desk instead of in the mug and a strong, but slender hand reached out and gently took the bottle out of the sergeant's numb fingers. An amused look entered those dark blue shining eyes and the light in them was muted a little as he set the whiskey bottle on the desk and finished the poor sergeant off altogether with a devastatingly beautiful smile.

"Good morning." Lord above but the man's voice was as beautiful as his face. "My name is Major-General Matthews, I am the General Officer Commanding 4 Division of the British Army and I would like to speak to whoever is in charge."

"Uh..." The Desk Sergeant found that the power of speech had momentarily left him.

The beautiful General shot him another smile, but this time it was one of his companions who stepped forward with a smile and spoke.

"And _my_ name is Detective Sergeant Finrod from the Metropolitan Police in London and this is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Moore . Perhaps we could speak to..." He took out a small black wirebound notebook and examined it for a moment. "Detective Chief Inspector MacGillivray?"

The Desk Sergeant turned to look at this other new visitor and nearly collapsed. Finrod's beauty was no less than the General's, but the effect was offset slightly by the tall, equally beautiful, police officer holding out his warrant card for examination as did Jim Moore. He managed to claw back some of his composure and even managed to examine Eönwë's proffered military ID as well without losing control of his mouth again.

"Aye...aye...weel now, that _would_ be the Inspector." He replied weakly. "And whut exactly would your business be with him might I ask?"

Those dark blue eyes fixed on him again and he quailed a little because this time there was an implacable look in them. The General regarded him dispassionately for a minute, head slightly cocked thoughtfully to one side.

"We understand that you have a prisoner at the moment and our business, as you call it, is regarding him." The General's face grew stern. "And that is _all _we are at liberty to tell you. Please be good enough to fetch the Inspector for us..._now _if he is available."

Such was the command in Eönwë's voice and demeanour that the Desk Sergeant immediately responded.

"Yes sir, of course sir...if you'd like tae take a seat gentlemen, I'll see if the Inspector is available."

He lumbered off down a passageway and Eönwë, Finrod and Jim made themselves as comfortable as they could on the wooden form benches. Jim burst out laughing when Finrod gently patted the hard wooden seat before gingerly sitting down.

"I don't think they're there for visitors Fin, they're for what passes for potential inmates in the town...you know the sort of thing, the drunk who's too drunk to drive, the kid who urinates in the street or puts graffiti on the wall of the local pub. I wouldn't be surprised if they still used the cane or even the stocks!"

Finrod grimaced. "So barbaric." He murmured. His mobile rang shrilly and insistently and he finally sighed and looked at the caller before answering. "It's Amarie..."

Jim grinned at him. "I told you not to introduce her to the swift modern methods of communication."

Finrod's grimace turned into a scowl. "How was I to know that she would embrace modern technology? It's all Jan and Kim's fault. They started her on this damnable texting thing. Half the time I have no idea what she's talking about and I have to get someone else to translate."

Eönwë sighed and sat down on the bench beside Finrod, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "You should switch it off unless you're going to use it or waiting for important news. That's what I do otherwise I'd never get anything done because I'd be too busy answering calls from Kim and texts from Allie."

Finrod's blond eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Wait..._Allie _texts you? Allie has a mobile phone?"

"It's a cheap pay-as-you-go, but she loves it." Eönwë admitted. "As does Kim love her damn iPhone thing that she insisted I buy her for her birthday. I did protest strongly at the time that since we can all three of us communicate a lot cheaper using mind-speak there was hardly any need, but I was overruled...as usual these days. When Kim got a little stressed about it Daeron came up and hit me over the head with his plastic hammer and told me I was a 'naughty daddy' for upsetting Mummy. Maedhros and Maksim were no help at all and I swear I heard Erestor and Haldir sniggering in the kitchen."

Finrod and Jim fell about laughing. "Surely you didn't just let him hammer you over the head?" Jim chortled.

Eönwë raised an eyebrow. "He's two years old Jim, what was I supposed to do? Draw my sword and treat him to the wrath of the Ainur?" He chuckled. "No...to Kim's utter horror and Allie's glee I did what any self-respecting irritated parent would do and turned him over my knee and paddled his backside gently with the flat of my hand which didn't do much more than make him giggle. Then..._then _my beloved daughter informed me that if she reported me to the police they'd arrest me for child molestation! I thought Kim was going to stop breathing she was laughing so much... I swear to Eru that I am going to find every mobile phone in my house and put them on the bonfire..." He sighed again and grumbled while the laughter erupted from both Jim and Finrod in helpless snorts. "...and now I suppose I'd better record my own oath."

The book materialised out of thin air along with the quill pen, but, unfortunately, so did the Desk Sergeant behind the desk and if his eyes had popped out any farther from his eye sockets Jim was debating whether they'd have to rush him to Accident and Emergency to get them put back in.

"Uh...uh..nnn..." The Desk Sergeant stuttered.

Eönwë didn't turn a hair. He calmly finished writing his own oath in the book whilst wryly suffering Atto's melodic laughter inside his head. Never let it be said that Eru _didn'_t have a sense of humour! He stood up and the sergeant shrank back. The book disappeared into nowhere along with the pen and the sergeant's eyes came out even further.

"The Inspector?" Eönwë prompted gently.

"The book...the pen..." Gurgled the poor sergeant pointing to what was now empty space. His mouth was opening and shutting like a landed fish gasping for oxygen.

Finrod decided to rescue the poor man from an apoplectic fit. "Is the Inspector ready for us sergeant?"

"Ah...aye...aye..." He shot a grateful smile at his fellow officer. "If you'd just like to come this way gentlemen."

"That was _very_ bad of you." Finrod scolded Eönwë who chuckled.

"Oh come now...it's not often I get any fun...in fact these days, not ever."

ooOoo

**Back at Wellington House, official residence of the General Officer Commanding early hours of the morning...**

The house was finally quiet after Eönwë's abrupt departure for Scotland taking with him Jim Moore and Finrod. The children had slept straight through everything and were still asleep much to Kim's relief. Erestor had retired to his own quarters for some well earned rest, taking with him a cup of ginger tea with honey and a book from the library which was in Sumerian, a language that fascinated him and was teaching himself. Haldir had also retired, since the General's military driver had taken the three to the airport.

Kim and Maksim sat at opposite ends of the large kitchen table, she with a cup of hot chocolate and he with a warmed mug of pig's blood. She sighed blissfully as she sipped the chocolate and curled her legs underneath her. Neither spoke, but then neither needed to, such was the relaxed relationship of the two. Of the others normally resident in the hour, Nerdanel was visiting with Jan and Maedhros in London and Celebrian had accompanied Elrond back to Moria and was then travelling to Vevey in Switzerland to see Elladan with Joaquim who was also visiting the dig site. The deep, peaceful silence of the house was only punctuated by the slow steady ticking of the kitchen clock. Erestor had been most adamant about having a clock that made a noise rather than the more modern digital version preferred by Kim. As it was, she found that he was right. There was something very peaceful about a ticking clock.

It was so quiet that both of them were taken by surprise by a soft knocking on the back kitchen door which led into a paved area and then into the back garden. Kim stiffened and Maksim's eyes narrowed. He gestured for her to stay behind him and silently padded to the door. Kim watched with bated breath as he listened carefully, head cocked on one side. She knew better than to disturb the ensouled vampire when he was in this state. He could hear and detect much more than any normal human and could tell if there was anyone other than a human waiting outside.

The knock sounded again, this time a little louder and Maksim suddenly opened the door. Kim jumped back as one of the military guards, a young Private Soldier, dressed in full camouflage and with his weapon practically fell in through the opening and in fact would have fallen flat on his face had Maksim not reached out with that preternatural strength of his and grabbed the panic stricken young man by his webbing.

Maksim set the young soldier on his feet, dusted him down and gestured to the other guard who was hovering in the doorway for him to come in. Both young men were bright red with embarrassment and especially when they spotted the new young and very pretty Mrs General standing there in her dressing gown. The second soldier threw up a sloppy salute.

"Sorry Ma'am, beg your pardon Ma'am. We're sorry to disturb you, but the Guard Room told us that the General had gone up north and we just stopped this man from coming up to the house. He was pretty insistent that he saw either the General or someone he called Maskim."

Kim repressed a giggle at the mashing of Maksim's name and Maksim himself smiled sardonically.

"That would be Maksim...and I am he." He said softly. "Does this man of yours have a name?"

The soldier frowned. "It sounded like Curly or Kylie sir...but his accent was quite strong, it was difficult to make it out. We asked for ID sir, but he had nothing on him. We were going to take him to the guard room for the BOO (2) to talk to, but...he was pretty insistent on seeing one of the General's personal staff when we explained the General wasn't here, so we thought we'd come up and ask first."

Maksim glanced at Kim who looked back at him with a clear question in her eyes.

"Could the name possibly have been Kiril?" He asked.

The young soldier's face immediately lightened up with relief. "That's it sir...Kiril. That's his name."

"And where is he now?" The question came from Kim. She knew full well who Kiril was simply because Maksim had spoken of him so many times. Kiril was the head of Maksim's former coven, one of those senior vampires who had not listened to Herumor's wiles.

"Down at the barrier Ma'am, with the MOD Plods." (3)

Kim looked at Maksim, who tapped his teeth thoughtfully with an index finger. "He wouldn't be here without good reason Kim. England is not one of Kiril's favourite places and he wouldn't have travelled here for nothing."

"Okay then." Kim sighed and turned to the young soldiers who were waiting expectantly for a decision. "You'd best bring him up to the house then. I'll give Eon...um Gary a call and let him know what's happening."

Maksim nodded. "Good idea."

The soldiers left and Kim and Maksim resumed their seats at the table, but this time neither finished their night-caps. Instead both were now alert. Kim had called Eönwë, but had to leave a message on his mobile because he was now on a flight to Scotland. She didn't distrust Kiril but she trusted Maksim implicitly to protect her if necessary, but for Kiril to turn up uninvited in the early hours of the morning didn't bode well to her mind. She shivered slightly.

Maksim saw her shiver. He got up and took a folded blanket from the back of another chair and draped it around her shoulders.

"There is nothing to worry about." He soothed. "However I will put the lock on the door and go and wake Haldir and Erestor. Remember that Kiril cannot enter your home unless he is verbally invited. You can stand aside in a gesture which means that he can step over the doorstep on this occasion but does not have a permanent invitation, but I would advise not to do that. If they knock, wait for us to come before you open the door."

Kim pursed her lips in both frustration and nerves and nodded. Why the hell couldn't this Kiril person have visited yesterday? Why did he have to wait until Eönwë was nowhere around?

It seemed like centuries to her until Maksim returned, although in reality it was only a couple of minutes. He was now armed with his gun and some wooden stakes and accompanied by a very alert Haldir, armed with bow and sword and Erestor with his knives. Moments later a knock sounded at the door again and Maksim nodded for Haldir and Erestor to stand out of sight, one each on either side of the door just in case.

Once everyone was positioned with Kim safely on the other side of the room and out of any line of fire, Maksim opened the door.

"Greetings Maksim. My apologies for calling at such an early hour, but I have great need to talk to you or your General Matthews. " A tall man with saturnine features, not dissimilar to Maksim's own features stood in the doorway with the two armed soldiers hovering behind him.

Maksim's jaw clenched slightly. He noticed that Kiril made no attempt to enter. He also noticed that there was a tenseness about his former Lord which was very unnerving. He had lived and worked with the head of his former coven far too long to _not_ recognise the signs that something was very wrong. There was no way that Kiril himself would have travelled across water to see a former member of his coven if there wasn't something wrong. He inclined his head in greeting and stood aside gesturing for the older vampire to enter.

ooOoo

**1. **_[ Spoilers for those who have not watched Buffy all the way through yet]_ The **black roots** reference is to Willow taking on powerful dark magicks in Episode 20 of Season 6 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called Villains, in which one of the characters, Warren, shoots Buffy in the back garden of her home in Sunnydale. Unbeknownst to him, Buffy or Xander who is also present, the bullets from the gun also pierce the window of the room in which Willow is talking to her love interest, witch Tara McClay who takes one of the bullets in her chest, collapses and then dies much to Willow's horror and fury.

Paramedics are called and whisk Buffy off to hospital; meanwhile Willow summons Osiris hoping to summon Tara back to the land of the living in the same way she brought Buffy back from death. Unfortunately Osiris refuses her demands and this sends her on a path of vengeance during which she learns the blackest of the Black Arts literally by osmosis. As she does so, her hair and eyes turn completely back and her skin gets dark purple colour veins. She subsequently goes to the hospital and heals Buffy by magic and then heads off in pursuit of Warren's two friends, Jonathan & Andrew who end up being arrested and stew in jail.

Meanwhile Warren goes to a demon bar and starts gloating about killing the Slayer but gets squelched by one of the demons telling him that not only is the Slayer still alive, Willow was a powerful witch before but now her powers are off the scale and that she can find him anywhere and wreak vengeance on him. Warren panics and runs to a known local warlock, Rack, for help. After desperately trying to protect himself by means of magic, Warren tries to leave town, but Willow tracks greyhound-bus-riding Warren own only to find that he has created a robot identical in appearance and that the real Warren is trying to escape another way.

Willow finally tells Buffy and Xander about Tara's death and they begin to understand how events have unfurled. Buffy rushes home and finds Dawn with Tara's lifeless body. Buffy, Dawn and Xander then discuss their options and Anya, Xander's former girlfriend who is now a Vengeance Demon again, also gets involved. Willow finally finds Warren in the woods outside Sunnydale and tortures him to death. The rest of the episode is merely the events that happen and are not particularly relevant although it does culminate in Giles returning from England after having been imbued with the power of all the witches in his local Wiccan coven in order to try and offset the damage done by Willow's actions.

In the story of Buffy and my own stories, Giles has not yet earned his redemption with the Valar and therefore can only used enhanced magic belonging to others. He has no powers of his own. He gives the vengeance soaked Willow all of the enhanced borrowed magic deliberately so that she literally goes into magic overload and it has the effect of engaging ALL of her emotions, not just fury, anger and revenge. She feels everything, all the sorrows of the world in one massive dose and decides that the only way to stop the suffering of everybody is to actually end the world. The only person in the end who has the strength to divert her from her goal is the only person who has known her since childhood, Xander Harris goes to her and pleads with her and finally he manages to get through to her. She breaks down completely and her hair and skin turn back to normal.

Giles eventually takes her back to England with him and she lives with the coven for a while in order to learn how to control her powers and use them for good.

**2. BOO = Battalion Orderly Officer.**..usually a commissioned officer, Major or below, but can also sometimes be a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer such as a Staff Sergeant or a Warrant Officer. As a Staff Sergeant in the British Army I've carried out BOO on occasions. It's a temporary duty, usually carried out over a twenty four or forty eight hour period and done on a rota basis. The Battalion Orderly Officer is the third in the chain of command from the Guardroom Sergeant, called the Battalion Orderly Sergeant (BOS) who takes overall control of the Guard Room and its duties during the silent hours, 16:00 hours to 07:30 hours. The BOS is immediately accountable to the Regimental Sergeant Major, but depending on the regiment, both BOO and RSM would be called in the event of a serious problem. Normally the BOS would deal with minor problems him or herself.

**3. MOD Plods **= A fond term used by the actual military to describe the Ministry of Defence Police, who were not military themselves, but employed as guards by the Ministry of Defence. MDP is the MOD's own dedicated civil Police Force, of around 3500 officers - all with constabulary powers - and some 300 civilian staff. It operates in five geographic Divisions serving nearly 100 MOD establishments and units throughout the United Kingdom.


	5. The Eyes Have It

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the ****Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note**

My huge apologies to all readers of this story, but not only did I have to fly out to South Africa to see my father because he was becoming increasingly unwell, when I got there he was taken into hospital with an arterial embolism and eventually after two major operations they amputated his left leg just above the knee. This is a hideous thing no matter what age you are and my father is 88. We did nearly lose him and the month I was out there in Cape Town with the rest of the family was actually very fraught. He is now recovering at home and concentrating on becoming as mobile as he can be.

On the bright side, there was also very good news on the book front which happened at the very same time as the awful situation with my Dad. My book, The Serpent and the Peacock has been accepted for publication by an American publisher. The first release will be on eBook with Barnes and Noble and Amazon and the second release will be in real book form towards the end of April this year. If anyone reading this story who also read the previous one, Dark Power Arising in which I introduced my original book characters would like to be notified of both release dates of the book, please email me or PM me privately with their email address and I will ensure that they are on the notification email. Obviously I don't need to tell any of you how exciting this has been for me, but it's also been a very busy time in that I have had to read and approve edited versions of the book and also things like the front and back cover artwork.

However, as you can see, I do intend to keep my story going although updates will have to happen in-between continuing the sequel to the book and real life stuff but with my new awesome laptop given to me for my recent 60th birthday by my wonderful sons, daughter in law and grandson and my equally fantastic wireless router from my lovely friend Sue I can now travel with all of my files and keep working as I would at home no matter where I am in the world.

Again thank you for your patience and understanding.

For those who are not truly au fait with Buffy, **The First Evil** was a unique entity that predated man and demon, apparently the personification of the concept of evil itself, manifested from all evil in existence. The First was an incorporeal presence that could assume the form of any person who had died, including vampires and persons who had been resurrected. Because of this it appeared in various forms depending who it sought to manipulate. In my story the First Evil and Melkor are one and the same entity.

ooOoo

""You came pretty close to smacking me down. What more do you want?""

_**- The First Evil (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 7)**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 5 – The Eyes Have It**

There was an eerie silence around the slopes of one of the smaller mountains in the Scottish Highlands only punctuated occasionally by the mournful cries of the hawk and the even more mournful sobbing of the cold wind that blew from the east across the Russian Steppes from Siberia It was not a place that tourists travelled to and was only occasionally tested by a hardy climber or two who rapidly found that the higher they got, the more the mist grew heavier and shrouded them and the mountain itself to such good effect that a hand could literally not be seen in front of a face.

The few locals who lived in the area in the couple or three small villages knew better than to test the mountain's mettle. It might well be much smaller than Ben Nevis, but it had a bite that nobody forgot in a hurry. For the most part they avoided it...even the hardy forest service people whose job is was to look after the trees on the lower slopes looked a bit aghast if anyone came and asked for advice about good climbing or hiking in the area.

It stood to reason then that it was an ideal place for anyone who was up to no good; if they could withstand the gruelling climb up that is. If some hapless climber, forester or local had managed to reach only a few metres from the summit they would have found a natural rock-strewn path in between some sparse bushes which eventually led to the dark maw of a cavern entrance.

The huge rock formations on either side of the cavern entrance served to further put a sinister aspect on the place. They looked for all the world like broken, jagged rotten teeth beyond which there was only a Stygian blackness.

If they had found the courage to go further or right up to the entrance, the foetid smell billowing forth alone would have made them recoil in horror and ensured that anything they had eaten previously would make some rather unwanted returns. The descent down the mountain could be a lot faster and a lot more lethal than even the ascent upwards especially when undertaken as a panic-stricken run.

However to date, nobody, at least not a mere mortal anybody, had managed to breach the cave entrance and it remained hidden, mysterious and filled with secrets that mere mortals were not meant to know.

ooOoo

**The Loch Mairie Police Station in the North West of Scotland..**

Inspector MacGillivray looked up as Eönwë, Finrod and Jim crowded into the small dingy compartment that served as his office in the station. His half glasses were perched on the end of his nose as he plodded through crime scene reports and occasionally checked HOLMES2 on his computer screen. So far the lab had come up with nothing that actually tied Mr Osse in with the crime scene at the cemetery. Interviews had also come up with nothing and the Inspector was currently fervently hoping for a miracle, perhaps a polygraph or a truth serum to convince the smiling, calm prisoner to confess.

He had just sighed deeply, sat back and was contemplating the unsavoury notion that they had the wrong man in custody when the Desk Sergeant had knocked on the door and told him that some high and mighty military mucky-muck was outside asking to see the Inspector with regard to the prisoner. The fact that the Desk Sergeant, normally a very hard individual to shake, was pale, wild-eyed and slightly trembling made the Inspector realise that whoever the visitor was he had enough about him to knock people off their safe ground. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned as the sergeant left to fetch the visitors. Their prisoner was not only the wrong man, but quite obviously he was a man with influential friends in high places as well. That was _all_ he needed to make his day just utterly perfect!

ooOoo

Osse's eyes flew open. He didn't need to actually see Eönwë to know that he was here and he had one of the children of Arafinwe with him…how utterly delightful. It was always an immense pleasure to see one of King Olwë's grandchildren and it had been many a year since he had spoken with Findarato given that he was currently aiding Eönwë here in modern Middle Earth.

His heart warmed at the thought of his brother Maia being nearby. Perhaps now he would be spared the pointless questioning he had so far undergone with these police or _whatever _they called themselves. Too much time had been wasted since his Lord had caused his servant and two companions to be whisked away to this marred place. Osse felt a spasm of pain at the thought of Uinen still being there, even though he knew full well she would be safe. Ulmo would protect her as best he could and she could take care of herself anyway.

He pushed aside the momentary pang; Valinor was now closed to anyone who was not already there and he had a task to carry out for Lord Ulmo.

The door of the cell swung open and he looked up with a welcoming smile at the tall figure that filled the doorway.

"It's about bloody time you got here." He said in an acerbic tone.

Eönwë threw back his head and laughed. "It's very nice to see you too my brother! And may I ask... why _are_ you here?""

ooOoo

**A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...**

A low lying mist crept slowly around the lower reaches of the house. It wound its way around the tendrils of ivy that clung to the walls and finally hovered around the mullioned windows of the library where Rupert Giles, top button of his shirt open and tie hanging madly askew, lay with his face on the keyboard of his laptop. He had been researching through the night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, although he had suspicions that neither of their guests actually went to sleep either, despite heading to the room they had been given.

Only the Watcher and Slayer on duty that evening remained awake. They saw the light under the library door and knew better than to disturb Dr Giles although the young Watcher had taken a tea tray into the former librarian just before midnight and received a warm smile and heartfelt thanks for his efforts.

It could have been a log falling in the grate and the ensuing hiss as a trickle of pine sap caught fire.

It could have been the fact that, despite the fire, a distinct chill had pervaded the atmosphere of the usually warm room and the fact that the shadows created by the tall library stacks had lengthened and deepened as the pools of normally comforting light from the Tiffany shaded electric lamps dimmed. Whatever was responsible for Giles waking up with a start and staring frantically around him in sleep-heavy confusion, there was nobody and nothing dangerous immediately obvious.

Giles located his glasses and started to clean them before propping them back on the bridge of his nose. He sighed and contemplated the pot of now cold tea. Hot tea would mean that he would have to tramp back through the corridors and down into the large cavernous kitchen. He sat back and thought about doing just that but found that his get up and go had actually got up and went. What they really needed was a kitchenette on each floor with the makings for a cuppa to save them from the route march.

He distractedly noticed with a sense of mild revulsion that he had drooled at some stage in his slumbers and cast around for something to wipe it from his waistcoat and, heaven forbid, the laptop. if he ruined that, his life wouldn't be worth living when Willow found out. Eventually he realised that the only thing he had for that purpose was the same handkerchief he had used for his glasses. He was intent on doing the clean up when he was interrupted in his labours.

"I must admit that out of all my lieutenants I never thought it would be you who would end up drooling, my guess would have been Gothmog, but considering your recent actions, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised."

The hairs rose up on the back of Giles's neck. Although he hadn't heard those drawling dulcet tones for a very, very long time he would have recognised them anywhere. _He's found a way back._ Frantic, terrified thoughts sped through his sleep dulled brain. He strained into the darkness which seemed closer and blacker than usual and cursed the short sight he had been given. _Think Giles, think__. _

"Yoo hoo. Over here….unless you've _truly_ turned into a drooling idiot."

There was a slight testiness in the voice now rather than the mockery. Giles stood up and turned until he saw that in amongst the shadows there was a deeper, albeit human-shaped blackness. Giles stood quietly for a moment and tried to still his hammering heart and rapid breathing.

"Show yourself." He tried to inject a note of confident command into his voice, but it sounded weak and quivery even to him. "Show yourself _immediately_!"

There was soft applause from somewhere behind and to the left of him causing him to spin around and at the same time grab a silver paper knife from the table.

"Oh puh_lease_… a paper knife? What on earth are you going to do with that? I am Melkor, the First, the one and only original evil… and incorporeal …_still_…thanks to those meddlesome Slayers of yours." A figure detached itself from the shadows and a face with sharp features, yet very beautiful framed with long shining black curtains of hair slowly revealed itself. The grey eyes were narrowed in an expression not too different from the last time Giles had seen this person alive in Valinor.

He swallowed back the retort that immediately sprang to his lips. Even Feanor in the worst of his psychopathic and autocratic moods would not have approved of his person being used by his most deadly enemy, yet Melkor would have found a perverse delight in doing so, knowing that the son of Finwe and maker of the Silmarils would be powerless to stop him.

Giles gaped open-mouthed at the tall figure in front of him. The First smiled mockingly at him and did a little twirl which looked completely incongruous under the circumstances. "Like it? I thought the choice of avatar was wholly inspired. After all we are in somewhat of a similar situation to that time when Ungoliante and I stole the light from the trees."

Giles stared at the apparition uncertainly. "What do you mean?" If he edged towards the door he could hit the panic button by the light switch. In seconds the room would be filled with Slayers.

Feanor/The First sat down in one of the chairs, long legs splayed out in front of him. "And then what?" He asked, giving Giles a winsome, almost flirtatious wink at the same time. He heaved an exasperated sigh. "The Slayers can't hurt me any more than they could before, Sauron...or should I say Giles? _Hello_... incorporeal remember? Even if you woke that henpecked husband of Artanis and that idiot who thinks he's a star, who are both sitting plotting upstairs, they couldn't help you either."

Giles sat down. "All right then, by the same degree, you can hardly do me any damage either, but if you think you can divert me from my current path then you had better think again. What do you want from me?"

Feanor/The First flung his hands up in the air and laughed. "Heaven _forfend_ that I divert you from the path to self-righteous tedium and insignificance. What do I want? Believe it or not, I want nothing from you, this time... but I _do_ have information you may find interesting."

"Information about what? And why should I trust _anything_ you tell me?"

Feanor./The First stared at him for a few seconds and for one unnerving moment Giles could see Melkor looking out of those grey Elven eyes. He appeared to be weighing his words, but finally he answered.

"You have no reason to trust me and I do not ask for your trust. I ask you to hear me out... someone is stealing the light."

Whatever Giles had expected him to say, it wasn't that. "Stealing the light?" He asked cautiously.

His visitor raised a sculpted dark eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me you haven't noticed?"

Giles was stung. "Of course not, but we assumed..." His voice trailed off and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

"You know what they say about assuming things don't you? You assumed it was me, up to my old tricks again." Feanor/The First put a hurt note in his voice. "You wound me."

"Not _nearly_ enough." Giles snapped back. "After all, who knows more about stealing light than you do?"

A gleam appeared in Feanor/The First's grey eyes. "Oh _touché,_ first hit to the librarian. Well hit sir and he comes out of his corner swinging. There's my boy. I thought you had been buried underneath all of that tiresome virtue!" He leaned forward and Feanor's smooth baritone became deeper and more menacing. "Let me tell _you_ something..._boy_... I might be down in the depths of the Void bouncing from hell dimension to hell dimension...and I assure you there are _more_ than a few in there, but I still hear things. Things that no one _thinks_ I hear. 'Oh that's just that idiot that the Powers That Be shoved in here, he's nobody. He has no power, they took it away from him. Even the Slayer isn't scared of him. No one cares what he thinks or what he does."

Giles raised his own eyebrow. "So you're hurt that nobody takes any notice of you and treats you like a has-been? Well please..._do_ let me take the opportunity of telling you how much I _don't _care."

Even as he said it he knew that he was courting trouble. In his years as a Watcher he had come to realise that while Melkor might have been the First Evil in Arda, he certainly wasn't alone in being totally evil or the last evil by any means. The Valar had clipped their brother's wings, but if he was actually taking the time to come out using yet another dead person's form to warn people who he normally wouldn't have even thought were sentient life in the old days about an impending apocalypse, then it behoved Giles to pay attention.

Besides which, there was a gleam of anger in the grey eyes now and while Giles felt gratified that he had managed to evoke it, the fact was that if Melkor felt there was someone out there who was bigger and nastier than he was, what chance would the world and humankind have?

Melkor sat back in the chair, satisfied that he had actually got Giles's full attention. He could see from the reasoning that was going on behind the Senior Watcher's eyes as he considered the situation that Giles already _knew_ that he needed to listen. He didn't trust his old master, that much was true, but Melkor could live with that. I wasn't necessary for Giles to trust him, just to _believe_ him. So without further preamble he launched into his explanation for being there.

The fact was that there was very little in reality that the former Vala feared, but the noises being made now among the movers and shakers in the Void had stopped him dead in his tracks and what was even more disturbing was that his usual visit from that cretin Namo hadn't happened.

Along with the regular visit every few yeni from the Lord of Mandos who_ never_ missed a visit, Melkor had been allowed one conduit to his fellow Valar, a means of connecting with only one of them if he needed to speak with them urgently. When Namo failed to show, he had used it for the first time in aeons and the only one to answer his call had been Ulmo, Lord of the Waters. That in itself was very telling. Ulmo had no time for Melkor and held him ultimately responsible for the massacre of the Teleri at Alqualonde. However, much to Melkor's surprise, this time Ulmo didn't show his dislike and for once he had not looked down on his fallen brother, instead he had explained that his fellow Valar had been given the knowledge that the Dagor Dagorath was about to begin.

Ulmo, however, had voiced his doubts, among which was the fact that quite a few of those who were supposed to play a major role in this final battle were actually not currently in Valinor, the Herald of Manwe being one of them. Manwe and the others had overridden those concerns. Manwe had received instructions from Eru himself via Gabriel and that was good enough for him. Ulmo had then withdrawn deep under the oceans where he could formulate a plan of his own. The fact was that he did not believe that the final battle was about to begin, but strongly felt that whatever the Valar started, someone with a more evil intent would be _more _than happy to finish.

Those doubts had finally reached a climax when he received the surprising call from Melkor, since Melkor himself was meant to have the starring role in the whole thing and apparently hadn't been copied in on the memo announcing that the end had come. Ulmo had tried to reach someone in the Timeless Halls for some clarification and found them in disarray there. He had asked for Raguel only to be told that he was not available and was somewhere on earth.

He then recalled his own Maiar, only leaving two or three to watch over the events unfolding on the land. It was through them that he heard that the Lady Artanis and her husband Celeborn along with Earendil and his people were _also_ not convinced that the time had come for the remaking of Arda.

Giles listened with growing horror. Valinor was closed and preparing itself for a final battle that would end everything so it could be remade anew...and, if what Melkor was saying was correct, there was trouble in the Timeless Halls.

"Someone _wants _the battle to happen." He whispered. "They're planning a takeover!"

Melkor nodded. "Indeed and it is obviously someone whose ascension to power will destroy everything for everyone."

"But who?"

Melkor sat back in the chair and shrugged. "All I know is that it isn't someone from the Void, not even one of the baddest baddies in there. The Senior Partners are as much in the dark as we are and since the Timeless Halls seem to be falling apart, I can only assume..."

The breath left Giles in a rush. "That it's one of them, one of the Ainur from the Halls, but Eru..."

"From what Ulmo told me, Eru is currently not available. It must be one of _those_ times..." Melkor left the sentence unfinished.

There were periods in the Timeless Hall when Eru withdrew from contact with his Ainur and left them to mind the store. Mostly it was thought of as a period of contemplation and recharging. After all, he did run the Universe by himself. The periods were not long by the standards of the Ainur...mere centuries in fact, but to the Secondborn children whose lifespan was finite it was a few generations and much could happen in that time, good and bad. Nobody other than the Ainur knew of this 'holiday', including those in the Void, so whoever was doing this had to be either from Valinor or the Timeless Halls...the only people who knew that God was out to lunch and his mobile phone was switched off.

Someone wanted the battle to begin but was ensuring that he or she was not the one to begin it. The blame would fall on the Valar and whoever among the Ainur still held true to their tasks serving Eru Iluvatar. The battle would rage, the Void would open, the portals between dimensions would be destroyed and everyone and everything held within would come flooding out... more than willing troops against the forces of good, one and all.

Giles felt like the very air had been sucked out of his lungs. His head swam; this would be the Apocalypse to end all Apocalypses.

"It's unthinkable..." He finally managed to gasp out.

"Ya think?" Melkor cocked one Feanor's eyebrows at him and smiled manically.

"The Herald of Manwe..."

"Is as much in the dark as the rest of us, although given that Celeborn and Earendil are here, Osse can't be far behind and I imagine that he's trying to locate the Herald as we speak." Melkor glanced around the darkened library as though he was expecting Osse to pop out of the wallpaper. "Which reminds me..._why _are Celeborn and Earendil here and not with Osse? I was given to understand that Ulmo despatched them to Middle Earth in order to contact the Herald."

Giles looked embarrassed. "Ah...well... they sort of fell foul of the Slayers, but they're fine now and as you say upstairs..."

Melkor interrupted by breaking into peals of laughter. "Fell foul of the Slayers? You mean the Slayers beat them up? Oh how utterly delicious. Well, as much as I would love to continue pointing and laughing, we need to find Osse, now if not sooner."

"He's in jail." As much as he wanted to punch Melkor in the face for being a snide asshole, Giles actually had to bite back a small grin as he dropped that bombshell.

Melkor stared at him in unabashed astonishment and not a little glee. "In _jail_? Oh _this_ just keeps getting better and better doesn't it?" He unfolded himself from the chair and swiped a hand at Giles which of course just went straight through him. "Come on then, we need to break him out of jail, chop chop..."

Giles sighed and also stood up. "I'll need to wake Buffy and the others up. We may need their help and where on _earth_ do you get these sayings from? Chop chop indeed. Buffy is not going to be pleased; she thought she'd kicked your arse back to the Void."

Melkor grinned at him. "Well she did or would have if I had an arse to kick, which I don't, but she did smack me down for a while. She's quite a force to reckon with and I respect power of any sort. Don't worry though, I forgive her. After all if we're going to stand shoulder to shoulder in this battle to save the earth and the universe, we need to hide our enmity and be best buddies."

Giles shook his head as he followed the form taken by Melkor down the passageway. "I cannot believe I am doing this. The earth is absolutely and _completely_ doomed!"

ooOoo


	6. The Old Ones

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the worlds created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Sorry for the delay again, horrible horrible flu from which I am recovering slowly.

ooOoo

"This goes all the way through to the other side. So, I figure, there's a bloke somewhere around New Zealand standing on a bridge like this one, looking back down at us. All the way down. There's a hole in the world. Feels like we ought to have known."

_**- Spike, Angel the Series, The Deeper Well**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 6 – The Old Ones**

**Previously in Valinor...**

Even though Ossë's sense of time was not the same as that of mortal man, he was still aware of a sense of urgency surrounding his mission. While sitting in the cell in the remote Scottish Highland town his mind had flown back a few days earlier when his Lord had summoned him and told him to prepare for a voyage across the Straight Road. Things were not right. Valinor was now in a state of alert and cut off from everything. The Valar were preparing for war, but the signs that had been thought would precede the battle to end all battles and remake Arda were not in the correct conjunction. Some were there but some were not, and some who were meant to take primary positions in the battle were conspicuous by their absence.

The Doors of Night had been thrown open that much at least was certain. Earendil himself had witnessed it, yet neither sight nor sign of Melkor had been detected. The impenetrable darkness of the Void hung stark and black behind the open doors, but there was no huge outpouring of the miseries that were supposed to be attendant on the arrival of the First Evil. A very puzzled Mariner had gone to report to the Valar.

"They are free and massing their armies." Manwë had said grimly. Lady Varda had shuddered and the faces of Orome and Tulkas were as grim. "We may not have much time."

"What of Eönwë? Should we not try to contact him?" Irmo asked hesitantly. "He at least should be here."

Manwë sank bank into his chair and rubbed his temples wearily. "I cannot sense him in my thoughts and the window to the East is clouded. It has never been clouded before. To all intents and purposes, I am now blind as to what might be happening in Endore."

Ulmo stopped his pacing abruptly and glowered at the Elder King under fierce sea-green eyebrows. "Then we must send someone from here across the Straight Road to let those who reside there know what has happened. My Maiar tell me that the barrier between the dimension of Valinor and that of Middle-earth is still in place. We can cross over still."

Manwë frowned. "That is true, but I suspect that coming back may not be so easy. In fact whoever goes may not get back at all. They must understand this and therefore it must be voluntary. I will not send anyone from Valinor into that situation without their full knowledge as to what they are letting themselves in for."

A pale-faced Ilmarë, dressed now in a blue and white surcoat embroidered with an eagle and mithril armour with a long sword girt around her waist rather than her usual white robes entered the room with a tray of refreshments. Varda smiled at her.

"Thank you Ilmarë. How do the children on the slopes of Taniquetil fare?"

"They are confused my Lady." Ilmarë said quietly. "Lord Ingwë is doing his best to keep everyone calm. We do not know about Tirion and Alqualondë. Olorin has not yet returned from the cities of the Noldor and the Teleri."

Varda nodded. "Very well hinya (1), we will see him as soon as he returns." She turned to Manwë. "I take it that once all the Kings are fully apprised of the situation we will start to prepare? They will need to speak to their people. Once the darkness is finally here, the children will be sorely afraid. Ingwë and the others need to prepare them and their armies for the battle to come."

Manwë opened his mouth to reply but was forestalled by Namo, who up to this point had said nothing. He had stood sombre-faced and silent in the corner of the room and had refused all refreshment.

"I am a little concerned about this whole situation." He said quietly. "The Doors of Night lie open, but where is Melkor and where are the hordes from the Void? Why is all so silent within?"

Ulmo stroked his beard, but remained silent. Yes the Doors of Night lay open, but he knew that Melkor had not stridden through them with his dark armies at his back. In fact the only sensation emanating from the Stygian blackness within was one of fear, breathless expectation and perhaps a touch of confusion and curiosity from Melkor himself. Whatever the threat was, it was not from the dark Vala or any of the many hell dimensions within and for Ulmo that was worrying all on its own. If hideous and powerful evil demons from a hell dimension were too afraid to pass through the door, then whatever was causing the threat was formidable and even more hideous in its own right.

Somebody else had set a train of events in motion which more or less resembled the run up to the Dagor Dagorath which effectively separated Valinor and the actual Void from Endore and the Timeless Halls. As far as Ulmo knew those orders could only have come from somebody in the Timeless Halls itself. What he didn't understand was why Manwë and the others, with perhaps the exception of Namo, were in such denial. He had tried to tell them of his conversation with Melkor and his subsequent denial of the knowledge of any of the events, but the other Valar had declared it to be part of his usual trickery.

Ulmo was not so certain. It was quite obvious to him that _whoever_ it was that had instigated all of this, they were operating on the premise of divide and conquer. With Valinor fully occupied with preparations for a battle that would not happen, at least not one that was _meant _to happen on the anticipated battlefield, and facing a stand-off against an enemy that apparently would not show itself and Eönwë and his people cut off and in ignorance of the events unfolding in Valinor, whatever was being planned from the Timeless Halls or whoever was responsible would have no opposition.

It was clear to Ulmo that not only the fate of Earth but that of the entire universe hung in the balance.

Ulmo could have pounded the walls in his frustration. Should he try to tell Manwë again what had transpired when Melkor has summoned him or should he remain quiet? He gazed searchingly around at his brother and sister Valar and saw doubt, fear and uncertainty. He withheld the deep sigh that threatened to blow everybody to the outer walls of the chamber. Perhaps sending Ossë over to Middle-earth would be the best bet. If more than just Valinor was in danger then the Herald definitely needed to know what was happening. He came to his decision.

"I will send Ossë to see if he can make contact with the Herald." He said firmly but quietly. "I do not know why Melkor has not come forth, but I suggest that one of us should step through the doors and speak with him again."

Manwë stood up abruptly and the goblet he had been holding shattered on the marble floor making everyone else wince. "I do not see the need for more speech with Melkor. He was ever adept at the dulcet lie. The signs are clear, the Doors of Night are open and we must prepare for the end as was written so long ago. The Timeless Halls were never meant to be involved in this. The fate of Arda was _our_ remit, given to us alone by Eru and it is our sole task to see it through until the end. We will prepare for the last battle and if it has to take place without Eönwë then so be it." He turned to Ulmo. "Send Ossë if you must, but you must impress on him that there may be no way back."

Ulmo watched as the others nodded in assent, then he nodded briefly to the Elder King before dis-incarnating himself. Only seconds later he reappeared inside the arbour of New Imladris to a very startled Lady Galadriel, her husband Celeborn and their grandson Elrohir who were busy discussing the events as had been laid out by Olorin who had now gone to Alqualondë to give the same message to King Olwë.

He was so intent on setting his own plans in motion that he did not see the appraising look that Namo sent him as he de-materialised.

ooOoo

**Inside the Void...**

Melkor floated quietly within the Void awaiting the signal from Ulmo and the Senior Partners to separate his feä from his hroä . The voices from the various Hell dimensions were at last stilled. Some had been all for piling through the open doors and rampaging through, killing everything they could find. Others suspected that other elements were at play and some, who had actually ventured to the open doors had sensed a massive power outside and a light so powerful that they knew deep inside whatever served for a heart in their species that they knew they would just burn up.

The arguments for and against rushing the Doors of Night had rained violent and hot until finally the representative from the Senior Partners had silenced them all by calmly and coolly decapitating the most vociferous of the demon bosses. He then turned to Melkor.

"What do _you_ think?"

Everyone looked at Melkor. They were all aware who and what he was of course...a Vala now dethroned and de-clawed. He claimed allegiance from none and none demanded his allegiance. Mostly they all ignored him or pretended he wasn't there. Unlike them, he had sprung from the ultimate goodness in the Universe and he was not a demon, despite his many crimes. He didn't belong. The Senior Partners did not defer to him, but neither did they treat him with disrespect.

Melkor pointed to himself. "_Me_? You're asking me?"

Amusement creased Lindsay McDonald's blue eyes. "That's the general idea." He smiled ingenuously at the former Vala. "After all, you're the one with the connections out there." He waved a negligent hand in the direction of the Doors of Night and the dimension of Valinor.

Melkor straightened up and his lips pursed. "I spoke to Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, that is true. I was merely confused as to why Lord Namo had not made his usual visit. I have the ability to summon one of the Valar but only Ulmo answered."

A combined hiss of fear was drawn in by all present. Even given that some of them were the most hideous monsters ever spawned, they all knew who the Lord of Mandos was and what his powers were.

"The Valar think that I have thrown open the Doors of Night." Melkor continued, examining his nails casually. "I imagine by now that they're beginning to wonder why none of us have forged through and decimated everything in our path."

"Could...could we _do_ that do you think?" A creature who was a cross between a lizard and a bull with a large ring through his nose and red eyes asked tentatively. Hisses, grunts and snarls of assent and approval followed the question.

Melkor raised an eyebrow and shook his head in disbelief. "Yes, I suppose you could, if you can withstand the light from the Blessed Realm. Maybe we ought to test it out by pushing you through the doors and see if you end up extra crispy." Sarcasm dripped from his words and Lindsay chuckled.

"Nobody said that the minions of hell had to be intelligent." He drawled. "So the Valar believe that the Dagor Dagorath is here?"

Melkor's head lifted up. "You know about that?"

"The Senior Partners know _everythin'_, which is why they know that this ain't the time for the endgame. What they think is that someone _wants_ your Valar buddies to _think_ that it is."

"Buddies." Melkor said bitterly. "I rather think they would object to that term. They are no friends of mine."

Lindsay moved closer. "And yet the Lord of the Waters took the time to have a nice little parley with you did he not?"

"Yes he did." Melkor huffed a sigh. "We both believe that something else is going on, we are just not sure what it is. What I _am _sure of is that there are now Maiar warriors outside the Doors of Night and if anyone so much as puts a tippy-toe over the threshold they'll be shish ka-bobbed and char-grilled. As much as I hate everything the Valar and the Maiar stand for, they are beings of the Light, a light that we cannot withstand."

"Well now... drawled Lindsay. "That ain't _exactly_ the truth is it? _You _wouldn't be fried by the light."

Melkor let out a harsh laugh. "No, but if I did walk through then it would kick the whole battle off and it's not the right time. I am not ready."

"And the Senior Partners agree with you. Somethin' _else _is going down and now even they are cut off from earth. Their conduits through the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart have been silenced. How about if you summon Lord Ulmo again?" Lindsay asked. "Would he be prepared to come in and listen to us?"

"He might do." Melkor pursed his lips. "But with what aim in mind?"

"With the aim of lettin' your friend the Herald of Manwë and the Slayer and her people know that someone's plannin' a takeover and makin' sure that everyone who _possibly_ could step in and stop it is busy doin' somethin' else?"

Melkor cocked his head onto one side. "Isn't this a situation that you want though? After all, with the Valar busy thinking it's the final battle, the Timeless Halls are out of contact for whatever reason..."

"And earth is left unprotected except for the Herald of Manwë and the Slayer..." Lindsay continued. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, the store is left un-minded and yet here we are kickin' our heels behind an open door." He stepped closer to Melkor. "Look, if we wanted earth overrun and turned all evil, we'd have done it centuries...millennia ago. An earth populated by nothing by evil entities and half-demons runs contrariwise to our whole raison d'etre. For evil to abound, there _has_ to be good. Take away the good and what are you left with?"

Melkor blinked. "I get your drift. You don't _want _humankind to be obliterated because it takes away your reason for existing in the first place. So who..." he stopped dead and stared at Lindsay with realisation in his eyes. "Half-demons?"

"_Now _you're gettin' it."

Melkor went a little pale. "That's not possible...those of whom you speak were brought down not long after the time of my first captivity at the hands of the Valar. You...your Senior Partners filled the void left by their demise."

Lindsay coughed delicately behind one tanned hand and Melkor glared at him. "Well now...I wouldn't exactly say that they were _dead _as such."

Melkor goggled at him. "_Not dead_? You're trying to tell me that they survived? Why in the name of everything good and evil in the Universe and Eru _aren't_ they dead? Are you out of your collective, lame-brained evil _minds?_"

"Sticks and stones buddy...sticks and stones." Lindsay looked unconcerned even as everyone else present drew back at the acerbic tone in the former Vala's voice. "They were taken care of." He looked uncomfortable for the first time in the conversation.

Melkor drew in a deep shuddering breath. "The Deeper Well..._please _don't tell me that you put them into stasis and then dumped them in the Deeper Well."

A slightly shifty expression flitted across Lindsay's handsome, tanned features. "All righty then...I _won't_ tell you that. In our defence none of them have broken out of there, except perhaps for..._Illyria_." He said the name under his breath.

"Illyria as in the God-King of the Primordium?" Melkor asked silkily. "The creature who called itself "Shaper of Things?"

"Well, yeah, I guess that didn't go down too well with you now did it, bein' that you pretty much wanted to shape things as well. How'd that work out for you by the way?"

Melkor fought down the urge to crush this minion of the Senior Partners. He ignored the question and posed one of his own. "Is the Illyria creature still at large?"

Lindsay's expression shifted again. "We're not sure. We kinda lost touch with her after that Circle of the Black Thorn fiasco in Los Angeles. We think she survived the onslaught but then she went right off the radar...but it's okay...Illyria is trapped inside a human vessel, a female once known in life as Winifred Burkle. Her primordial powers are restrained within the human shell. Her Qwa'ha Xahn got it wrong when he broke her out."

"You're babbling. Get to the point." Melkor cut him off. "So one of the Old Ones has _already_ been restored from the Deeper Well? What of the well's guardians and the remainder of the Old Ones? Has anyone thought to check the well?"

Things were becoming so much clearer to him now and the amount and level of inefficient meddling was beyond ridiculous. One didn't keep powerful creatures alive in _any_ shape or form, one destroyed them so they _couldn't_ come back to bite you on the ass. On the other hand, perhaps neither the Senior Partners nor anyone else left behind had the kind of power that it took to destroy the full demons and he had been far too busy with his own affairs to even take an interest at the time. _Go me,_ he thought bitterly, _yay for forward planning_. He remembered earth under the rule of the full demons. They had allowed him a great deal of space simply because they knew what he was and were afraid to come onto his radar as an enemy, then the next he knew they were gone and only a few pathetic half demons, like the vampires, were left behind. The Senior Partner had held _some_ control over the supernatural population, but had not tried to exercise it fully at the time. The Elves were no fools and they were superb and prodigious warriors. While they fought alongside the humans who also had their own warrior, the Slayer created by human Shamans from demonic essence put into a girl child. The Senior Partners were content to leave earth alone during that time. It was only as the Age of Men began in earnest that they had turned their attentions back to that small green planet revolving serenely in the cosmos.

Lindsay had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "Jix and Artrode, the demon guardians were defeated by Spike and Angel, two ensouled vampires. Unfortunately Drogyn the Battlehand, the Keeper of the well was also destroyed by Angel in his attempts to infiltrate the Circle of the Black Thorn. There are now new guardians and a new keeper whose name is never spoken."

Melkor slumped slightly. "How did I not know of this?"

Lindsay shrugged. "Well, you might have been a bit distracted given that you were busy tryin' to open the Sunnydale Hellmouth and tryin' to defeat the Slayer and her slayerettes at the time."

"The incident that nearly levelled Los Angeles?"

"There ya go. Yeah, you were firmly defeated by the time the whole thing went down, but we're digressing. I take it that ya'll agree that someone is trying to resurrect the Old Ones?" Lindsay was back to his chirpy Texan self, leaving Melkor with an overwhelming desire to wipe the grin of that handsome face of his.

"It has to be." A very humanoid looking demon dressed in what looked for all the world like a Calvin Klein business suit from the Klx'Hal Dimension spoke up warily. He too remembered the time when full blooded demons strode the earth and cut a bloody swathe across dimensions to create their sovereign states. None of the dimensions had been safe. As half demons, the only thing they would be used for were as slaves, entertainment and canon fodder. "Someone wants to bring back hell on earth."

"They know that with the Herald of Manwë resident on earth at this time, the Valar would step in if the Old Ones appeared and just tried to take over, so they manufactured this false Dagor Dagorath to keep them busy and leave Eönwë without an army of Light to help him." Melkor frowned. "There are some elements of the whole thing that don't make sense. The Timeless Halls..."

"... are as ignorant of the true events as we..._and you... _are." Ulmo's deep voice broke into the conversation and hundreds of demons squealed in fear as they realised that they were surrounded by Ulmo's Maiar and couldn't escape the net surrounding them.

"Speak. Speak quickly and speak well." Ulmo said in his deep voice and those who dared to even try to look into his eyes and the eyes of those accompanying them found their expressions to be implacable.

The only ones to withstand the sudden appearance of beings of Light in the Void were Melkor and Lindsay whose only facial change was that his blue eyes narrowed to slits.

ooOoo

**The Loch Mairie Police Station**

Ossë opened his eyes after recounting the events that had led to him, Earendil and Celeborn being transported to Middle-earth to find that Eönwë, Jim and Finrod staring at him in consternation and disbelief.

"Melkor is free?" It was all that Finrod managed to say. He felt as though all the breath had been crushed from his chest. His children and grandchildren, Amme..._all _of them...they could be fighting for their very lives at this very moment in the battle for the end and he was here in Middle-earth.

"Where is Melkor?" Eönwë asked quietly. He too had always assumed that he would meet the former Vala on the battlefield alongside Tuor and Tulkas, but for him something smelled a little off.

Ossë shook his head. "You're not _listening_. He's not free, at least not in the bodily sense. Lord Ulmo and the Senior Partners made an agreement that his feä is allowed to leave the Void and assist us here in bringing down the plan to resurrect the Old Ones. It's the only way, since they cannot get out of the Void and Valinor is preparing for war. He is the only one who can make his feä leave the Void. He can inhabit the body of someone either dead or has been dead but he cannot take corporeal form." He caught hold of Eönwë's arm. "If the paperwork is completed then we need to go. Melkor will have gone straight to his former second in command and pupil Sauron, who is now Dr Rupert Giles and the Head Watcher for the International Watchers and Slayer's Council. I have reason to believe that we will also find Celeborn and Earendil there, although they may be a little worse the wear from their encounter with the Slayers."

"Can we go back to Valinor?" Finrod asked.

Ossë shook his head regretfully. "Alas not Findarato, the Straight Road is now closed to all, either coming from or going to Valinor."

The Desk Sergeant appeared in the cell doorway. "Er...the paperwork is complete. Mr Ossy can sign for his belongings and here are his clothes. He'll need to sign discharge papers though at the front desk if you don't mind."

Eönwë thanked him and handed Ossë his clothing. "We will see you out at the front desk once you're dressed Ossë."

Ossë took the clothes and started to dress himself without preamble.

The Desk Sergeant cleared his throat. "I should tell you that there's a Dr Rupert Giles out at the front desk. Apparently he came to get your friend out of jail as well, along with a few of his...er...young ladies.

Eönwë and the others exchanged speaking glances. It looked very much as though whatever forces of light left on earth were beginning to come together.

ooOoo

**Hinya.**..My child


	7. The Gathering

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Many apologies for the delay in posting another chapter, but three months ago I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia and I am in hospital undergoing chemotherapy which so far seems to be working, Go Me! I am feeling quite well and have my laptop and internet in the room with me so I will attempt another chapter although the keyboard feels oddly small! I have to stay in the room because my immune system is non-existent and I cannot fight off infection, so I am isolated so that I don't pick up infections from other people in addition to those that grow inside your body all the time and are fought off by your immune system often without you knowing it.

My book, the printed version of The Serpent and the Peacock is now available also on Amazon. Com but not unfortunately in the UK yet. I need to find a UK distributor first. However you can buy it from the US, the shipping is more of course but you can get it. The sequel The Paths of the Moon in which the story of Semjaza is continued along with existing character from the first book and brand new characters should be available on in a few months.

Thank you so much for your never-ending patience. I was not being rude if I didn't answer any reviews or emails. I was not well for the first cycle of chemotherapy. This is my second and I am a lot better with this one.

ooOoo

"**Giles: **[Demon Giles] If you can't find third gear, don't try for third gear.

**Spike: **I'm doin' my best. I don't know if I'm drivin' this thing or wearin' it.

**Giles: **[Demon Giles] It's perfectly serviceable.

**Spike: **_[laughs]_Funny hearing a Fyarl demon say "serviceable". Had a couple of 'em working for me once. They're more like, "Like to crush. Crush now?" Strong though. You won't meet a jar you can't open for the rest of your life.

_[Giles growls menacingly]_

**Spike: **_[amused]_What was that? Did you growl?

**Giles: **_[primly] _No.

_**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer: A New Man (#4.12) (2000)**_

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 7 – The Gathering**

ooOoo

**The Great Dwarven city of Khazad-dum, Switzerland...**

Ereinion Gil-galad stood on the bridge at Khazad-dum and stared reflectively down at the belching flames far below. He had not known Gandalf as he was in Middle-earth, but he did know Olorin and had met Frodo, Sam, Legolas and Gimli when they came over to Aman and greatly respected them and their sacrifices for the welfare of all of those in the Middle-earth that was his own birthplace and for him, his real home.

Now he was back, and although much had changed in the interim, he found that he loved it just as much and felt so much more comfortable here than in the rarefied atmosphere of the Blessed Isle. Everyone there was so elevated, as if nothing human or real touched them anymore. For the down to earth, honest to goodness fighter and individual that he undoubtedly was, he found little in common with them, but he could easily see why the tall ethereal Galadriel fitted in so well.

Celeborn... well... not so much. He was of the same ilk as Ereinion and stuck out like a sore thumb among the ethereal dandies in Aman society, which was why he spent most of his time in the forests with the Lothlorien Elves who had joined forces with Legloas and his Wood Elves in a shared domain.

Ereinion's time among the Grigori of Vevey along with Maksim the vampire and Maglor, son of Feanor, had been well spent and this visit with Sariel Barique, second in command to the Presiding Member and senior member of the Grigori High Council, to the massive city of the Dwarves delved so long ago and now being explored fully and lovingly restored by the Edain archaeologists and anthropologists, would be followed by their return to the fold in England. Eőnwë had need of them, the future of the world once again stood in peril and even the Grigori would eventually be called upon to assist them in their efforts. However for now, things seemed quiet and a few days spent visiting the city and the Hellmouth deep beneath it would be educational and informative.

Behind him he could hear the sounds of the dig site staff going about their business as they worked diligently alongside some of the Dwarves who resided in Moria still. There were still many guards about and patrols were frequent. It was one of those patrols that Ereinion awaited as he contemplated what the actual flight across the bridge and Gandalf's apparent demise might have looked like all those millennia ago.

He was so engrossed he didn't see the figure approaching him until it spoke close to his ear and it had to be said that he jumped and his hand went to the pistol strapped to his belt.

"A penny for your thoughts." Elrond's amused tones sounded softly in his ear.

"Elrond!" Ereinion's response was immediate and joyful. He clasped his one-time Herald in his arms. They embraced gladly and were joined by a grinning Thranduil and Glorfindel who also embraced him. "Truly I am not sure they're worth even that much. I was just ruminating on the Fellowship's flight out of Moria and trying to imagine what it must have been like to have a living fiery Balrog hot on your tail. They really were an amazing bunch of people."

"Aye." Elrond agreed and his often severe features softened with remembrance. "They were all that indeed and very brave to boot. Is Maksim not with you? And Maglor..." He looked around for the tall saturnine figure of the vampire and the equally tall figure of his erstwhile foster father but came up short.

Ereinion chuckled. "Maksim excused himself from being near fiery places. He is still not entirely sure of himself near fire despite the reassurances of the Grigori scientists that his soul is firmly in place and he will not burn. Old habits die hard it seems. He went on with Elladan and one of the Naugrim scouts towards the Twenty First Hall and the encampment and will meet us there. Maglor has not yet left Vevey but will go straight to England from there. There are some urgent matters for him to deal with and I understand that the Maiar who usually guard Eönwë's residence have been withdrawn. Maglor has a team of Grigori Kerubim with him to replace them. I take it Celebrian has returned home?"

Elrond nodded. "Yes, Eőnwë has more need of her there to be with Kim and the children. Only Maedhros, his betrothed Jan and his naneth are there at present. Jim, Finrod and Eőnwë are in Scotland apparently trying to break Osse out of jail."

Ereinion looked blankly at him for a moment while the other broke out into ripples of silvery laughter around him. "Osse? As in Lord Osse? Lord Ulmo's chief Maia? What in the name of the Valar is he doing in a human jail in Middle-earth in the first place, never mind Scotland and why hasn't he just broken himself out? An easy job for a Maia I would have thought."

Thranduil clapped an arm around his shoulders and started to lead him in the direction of the waiting patrol led by a smiling Seth Falconer, the head honcho of the Grigori Kerubim. "You know as much as we do now. It is indeed a mystery and one which we no doubt will hear about in good time from Lord Eőnwë. We can only assume that the Valar sent him for some reason related to this current problem. We have all yet to be briefed. Even the Grigori High Council don't know the details and to that end Seth will come with us for our briefing so that he can notify the council of the situation.

Seth stepped forward with his hand out and Ereinion took it with a warm smile and a firm clasp. "Mae govannen Seth, it is good to see you again."

"And to see you my friend." Seth responded in kind. He gestured to the armed men waiting with him. "Care to join the party?"

Ereinion's rich laughter echoed around the vast Second Hall. "Don't mind if I do Seth, don't mind if I do."

ooOoo

**Outside Loch Mairie Police station...**

"My oh my, now _that's_ a whole bunch of salty goodness over there."

Faith's husky voice made itself heard over the hush that had fallen as the two groups faced each other. The groups were comprised of Eőnwë, Finrod, Jim and Osse and Rupert Giles with his little band of senior slayers with Celeborn and Earendil bringing up the rear alongside a being who resembled Feanor, son of Finwe and Miriel but whose feä was, in reality, currently residing in the Halls of Mandos.

Giles sighed, harrumphed and took his glasses off to clean them. He should have known that Eőnwë would hot foot it up to Scotland once he knew that Osse was being held by the police but the question was _how_ did he know?

"Faith..." He put what he hoped was a note of warning in his voice. He couldn't see the Herald or Finrod appreciating Faith's particular brand of sexual harassment and the situation was bad enough what with Buffy standing there and especially considering the steam was starting to belch out of her ears again. It had taken him a long time to convince the Senior Slayer that the Eldar were not the Powers that Be and therefore not part of her self-declared open season on Higher Beings and that they should work with them. Buffy was no fool and she recognised Eőnwë for what he was and she did not like it _or_ him... not at all... no sirree.

"Well_ hello_ fellas."

The sultry purr was accompanied by Faith's best sexy swagger. A wiggle of leather clad bottom, a toss of the dark hair and a lascivious wink that seemed to take at least two of the men, the tallest of the group, by surprise. The other two just appeared mildly confused in Finrod's case or, in Jim's case, very amused. He didn't think for one minute that the comment was aimed at him and Finrod was so used to women doing that to him it didn't seem odd to him.

"_Fellows_?" Osse mouthed in Valarin at Eőnwë who shrugged.

"It's an... er ... form of flirtatious greeting." The Herald had flushed slightly. "Her demeanour indicates a desire to get to know us both better on a physical basis."

"She wants to _mate _with us?" Osse's mouth was a round o of astonishment. He could almost _feel_ Uinen slapping him upside the head.

"Quite probably. " The Herald murmured.

"Didn't your momma ever tell you that it was rude to speak in a language that nobody else understands?"

Faith was a bit huffed. She had just given it the whole sexy, 'come and get me' nine yards and these two visions of hotness were busy jabbering away in some weird language and ignoring her. What _was _that anyway? Some kind of demon speak? They were obviously not human. Her expression changed to wary and she drew her sword. Her action was repeated by all five Slayers who had accompanied them including Buffy who had a crossbow.

"Everything will be fine if you hand Ozzy over." Buffy was not backwards in coming forwards. She stood slightly in front of her group, her whole body in an aggressive battle stance.

Osse's eyebrows rose to his hair line. "Ozzy?" He looked utterly bewildered.

Jim and Finrod quietly hooted with laughter into their hands and a smile tugged at the corners of the Herald's finely shaped mouth.

"I think she means you." He responded. This time in English.

"Are you bozo's actually listening to me?" Buffy sounded annoyed and she flung off the warning hand that a very alarmed Giles had put on her arm. "We've come for Ozzy... Just hand him over and nobody will get hurt... _maybe_."

"Oh dear lord." Eőnwë groaned. "They intend to fight us for you Ozz...er Osse."

"Very funny." Osse ground out. "I've just spent a night in jail and I want to have a nice bath and a hot meal, not fight anyone."

"All of which you shall have." Giles hastily, and very bravely it had to be said, stepped into the line of fire much to Melkor's distinct amusement. "Please allow us to offer you all the hospitality of the manor, it's not far away and we have plenty of hot water... _some of which will be surrounding some people not so far away from me right now when we get back._" He muttered sotto voce to the slayers.

"_Giles!_"

"Buffy _please_. Allow me to introduce Lord Eőnwë, Herald of Lord Manwe the Elder King and Lord Osse, Chief Maia to Lord Ulmo, Lord of the Waters along with Lord Findarato, Crown Prince to the King of all the Noldor and their companion Jim who is a policeman with the Metropolitan Police." Which, come to think of it explained how they knew. The police computers would have told them.

A mutinous look tightened Buffy's mouth at the mention of the police. She had come here to rescue Ozzy from the cops in the first place and now here was another one from London to boot. Cops were pretty useless in her book. She had spent her teenage hood in a dangerous town where the local police were stupid and vampire killings were put down to gangs on PCP and barbeque fork accidents. Nobody seemed to take _any _notice of the constant mortality rate of citizens in general and high school students in particular. That was a whole other brand of stupid in her view.

"That's a _whole_ lot of Lords." Willow's chirpy voice sounded from where she was standing with Celeborn and Earendil. They were busy watching over a now very laissez faire Melkor in the physical form of Feanor just in case. Melkor was busy examining his incorporeal finger nails, but there was an unholy light of amusement in his...or rather Feanor's dark eyes... at the standoff that wouldn't have looked odd in the real Feanor.

"We can handle this Will." Buffy said tersely. The last thing she needed was Will to use magic out in the open street like this.

It didn't seem to occur to her that the production of lethal weapons on a public street might _also_ not be a good idea.

Willow smiled nervously. "I _know_ you can Buffy, but I think what Giles is trying to say is that these are the good guys believe it or not. They came because they found out that their friend was in jail." She walked to the front of the group and cocked her head at Eőnwë. "Right? And I know you from somewhere don't I?" There was confusion in her voice as if she didn't think her memory was reliable.

Eőnwë gave an inward sigh. Yes they had met and he had erased her memories of the time in Moria. He really didn't want to revisit them just yet. A slight clearing of the throat told him that Jim had also recognised her. He shot the lad a warning glance and Jim subsided. The Herald obviously had his reasons for keeping the Moria incident quiet and would explain these reasons later.

"You do not know me." Eőnwë said gently but firmly. Which was quite true, they hadn't actually had time to get to _know _each other properly in Moria. "But we _have_ just been introduced by Rupert and yes Ozzy... um... _Osse_ is our friend, we came to help him, not hurt or capture him."

Willow flushed to the roots of her hair. She put out her hand much to Buffy's irritation. "Of course we've just been introduced, how silly of me... it's just that you looked kinda...you know... familiar somehow... How're you doing?"

Eőnwë's lip twitched uncontrollably. "I am doing good, and you?"

"Oh for god's sake." Melkor walked forward and stood beside Buffy who froze in dislike. She had to work with the First for reasons that she understood, but she didn't have to like it. "Buffy... Eőnwë, Eőnwë...Buffy. Buffy is a Slayer; she was the _only_ Slayer until the witch here." He pointed at Willow who blushed even redder if that was possible. "... meddled and caused all of the potential slayers in the world to be activated. Eőnwë is a Maia, a form of angel from the Blessed Realm, but not from the Timeless Halls. He is part of the Powers but not one of them here. He is here in corporeal form to lead the troops against the Old Ones... and we have to work with him and his people who are mostly Elves like Celeborn and Finrod over there."

The whole of the Slayer group with the notable exception of Celeborn, Earendil and Giles turned to look at Melkor in disgruntled astonishment when he spoke of the Old Ones. They knew full well who _they_ were of course.

Eönwë's group also gave a notable start at the mention of the Old Ones all except for Osse who smiled complacently.

"Have I just stood on some toes?" Melkor asked silkily. "And let the cat out of the bag? Oh dear me, how sad...never mind."

"Melkor..." Giles shot a dark warning look at his former master. "I really do think this discussion should be taken off the street, we are starting to gather a most unwelcome crowd." He turned to Buffy. "Can we just put the damn weapons away, do you really want to send the Loch Mairie police into overdrive and call in the SWAT team from Aberdeen?"

Willow was momentarily diverted. "Oh wow...do they actually _have _SWAT in that cute lil 'ol town? I thought it was just fishing and Scotch oatcakes."

Faith snorted with laughter and Buffy rolled her eyes, but she put her crossbow away in her backpack and the other girls hid their own weapons, much to the huge disappointment of the local butcher, the three old ladies who sewed quilts and baked scones in the Scots version of the local women's institute and four yobs who usually hung out at the pub when their unemployment cheques came in.

Buffy turned to face Giles. "Okay Giles, have it your way, they can come back to the manor house, but no way am I trusting _anyone_ from the Powers That Be and as for working with them... the words _over_..._my_..._dead_...and _body_ leap to mind."

Giles pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed. "Quite so. I think you've made your point Buffy, you and the girls both, but it has to be said that you may not have a choice in this..."

At this juncture Eőnwë hastily decided to intervene. "I think this conversation must be held elsewhere and we accept your very kind invitation. Our hire vehicle is over there." He pointed to a dark coloured SUV in the police station car park. "I assume you have a vehicle of your own? So we shall follow you if you show us where it is."

Giles flushed. "Vehicles plural as it happens." He stammered slightly. "And they are in Tesco's car park just down the road. Too many of us for one car."

The Herald smiled kindly down at him. "Then you head off to fetch them and we will meet on the main road all right?"

Giles nodded, grateful that bloodshed and tears had been avoided. "Thank you..." He rushed off after the gaggle of slayers with the stately Celeborn and Earendil bringing up the rear with Willow and a _very_ self-satisfied Melkor.

"_Tesco's_? What is Tesco's?" Osse was heard to ask plaintively as they all got into the SUV. The answer was incomprehensible and only served to confuse him more. Self-service giant shops? You see what you got when you allowed the Race of Men to take over a perfectly serviceable world? Gobbledegook and nonsense apparently run by giants..._that's_ what.

ooOoo

**A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...**

Giles, Eönwë and Osse sat facing each other in in the comfortable overstuffed armchairs in front of the roaring fire in the library grate. Finrod, Jim, Celeborn and Earendil were seated at the large library table where they were crowded around the book that gave the most comprehensive information on the Old Ones that the International Watcher's and Slayer's Council could produce.

On the other hand, Melkor was rather incongruously and rather disturbingly sitting on absolutely nothing at all, one long leg crossed gracefully over the other. Try as he might Eönwë couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. Perhaps a naughty part of him was hoping that the dark Vala would fall on his ass. His face must have said what he was thinking very clearly because Melkor chuckled loudly and blew him a kiss, changing legs at the same time.

"He won't fall." Giles said bitterly with compressed lips. "God knows I've wished it on him often enough over the past couple of days if only to bring him down a peg or two. Being incorporeal allows him to exist by an entirely set of rules to the rest of us and that includes sitting on nothing apparently."

Eönwë laughed softly and Osse chuckled.

"Well it doesn't hurt to wish occasionally." The Herald said smoothly. "As long as he keeps to his part of the bargain that he made with Lord Ulmo. However we will be watching him very closely."

Melkor yawned exaggeratedly and stretched out on a non-existent bed. He closed his eyes and a gentle snore escaped him.

"Ignore him." Said Osse firmly. "We have important things to discuss and decide here and believe me, he will join in the discussion at some stage for it impacts greatly on his welfare also, as he well knows. He is just trying to get a rise out of us all."

"You are such a spoilsport Osse." Melkor grumbled. He stood up and went to a chair where he transposed his body to a sitting position as if he really was sitting down on it. "Is this better?"

Giles shook his head in despair and he refrained from answering; in fact they all did. "So if we are all finally sitting comfortably, shall I begin?" He asked.

They all nodded and Celeborn and the others turned their attention from the book to Giles.

"This world is older than any of you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons demons walked the Earth. They made it their home, their...their Hell. But in time, they lost their purchase on this reality. The way was made for mortal animals, for, for man. All that remains of the Old Ones are vestiges, certain magicks, certain creatures... or so we thought." He paused and took a sip of his single malt Scotch. "The Old Ones possess many different shapes and powers, but all of them are gigantic. They were worshipped as gods, ruled over vast territories, commanded fearsome armies, and constantly made war against each other. They also did not seem to live and die the way mortals do. In short, under the Old Ones' rule, the world was a living hell. As I said earlier, at some point, the Old Ones lost their claim over this reality; some were killed while others were driven from this dimension. The corpses of the greater fallen Old Ones were placed in stone sarcophagi, while their powers were drained and embedded in jewels affixed to the surface of their coffins. All of the sarcophagi were placed in a mystical graveyard known as the Deeper Well, a hole in the world which could be accessed in the Cotswolds in England, and its supposedly antipodal point in New Zealand. A keeper or guardian, with a small detachment of demon warriors, was placed in the Deeper Well to prevent anyone from extracting a sarcophagus. They failed, however, to prevent Illyria, one of the Old Ones, sarcophagus from disappearing from the Well, thus allowing it to be shipped to an employee at Wolfram and Hart called Knox . It should be noted, though, that this act was said to be preordained."

"Wolfram and Hart?" Celeborn and Earendil both asked at the same time.

Giles gladly obliged. "Wolfram and Hart are a group of demons known as the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, who were weak by demon standards. They left this dimension when the Old Ones were expelled. Unlike other demons, the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, now under the nickname of the "Senior Partners", became major players by establishing the evil law firm Wolfram & Hart and its many incarnations and branches throughout many dimensions. They are the ruling power here on earth, or they would like to think they are. They have a representative who I think that Melkor hs met, if I am not mistaken, in the Void. A creature called Lindsay McDonald who was once human and worked as a lawyer for the firm at that time. Angel was responsible for his death as I understand it."

"Ah yes." Melkor smiled in reminiscence. "Dear old Lindsay. And it was actually that green horned thing from Pylea called Lorne or something that did the dastardly deed, not Angel. I _am_ older than the Old Ones you know."

"You and the rest of the Valar." Eönwë said calmly. "Even Osse and I are older, but they inhabited Arda first even though Atto intended that we should have stewardship."

Celeborn rubbed his chin. All of this turned everything they knew about Middle-earth on its heels. He could only just begin to understand how obscenely old this world was and by the same degree how old the Valar and the Maiar actually were. It had never struck him before, they always seemed to be old and yet young at the same time.

"This Illyria, who was she and is she who we need to defeat?" He asked.

"Illyria's seat of power was located in what would later be California, and she was one of the most revered and feared of all the Old Ones." Giles said soberly. "She was killed by rivals and entombed in the Deeper Well before being released into spectral form a few years back, which then took over the body of a scientist and employee and friend of Angel the vampire who was called Winifred Burkle." We don't know if she was destroyed finally in the apocalypse that hit Los Angeles not long after her transformation into Fred. We don't even know if Angel or any of the rest of his team survived. We have seen and heard nothing of them since that fateful day."

"So she is out of the picture." Jim stated quietly.

Giles nodded. "For now it would seem so, however we cannot rule out that she did survive and is behind this movement to raise the Old Ones up to power again."

Eönwë had said little up to now but he had a thoughtful look on his face. "Then perhaps our first port of call should be the Deeper Well, which has a new guardian so Osse tells me. We need to see if the current inmates are still secured for ourselves."

Giles nodded. "Yes, but as mortals I and the others here cannot go there, not even Buffy and the other Slayers. You, Osse and the Elves will be fine I think. You need warriors with you in case of trouble, but Melkor must certainly stay here. It's not lack of muscle that's the problem. It's the getting there."

"Which is where I come in handy dontcha think?" Willow stepped into the room followed by Faith and Buffy and a young dark haired man. At least he looked young at first glance to the occupants of the room, but once he was inside his one remaining eye showed age, weariness and hard won wisdom along with sparkling humour. His other eye was covered by an eye patch. "Guys, you haven't met my Xander shaped friend yet."

"Please to meetcha all." Xander grinned and suddenly his face looked younger, much younger.

"Xander is one of our most trusted inner circle." Giles said quietly. "Most of us have trusted him with our lives at one time or another and he has never let us down." He turned to Willow. "Am I to understand that you've _found_ a way to the Deeper Well?"

"Sheesh." Willow waved a negligent hand vaguely in the air. "Like it was _so_ hard to do. I didn't even have to use the old magicks. I just accessed the old Wolfram and Hart files from when Angel was there? And _poof_, there it was! I can teleport you guys and myself there in seconds."

"Poof?" Osse looked pleadingly at Eönwë who only just stifled a laugh. "What does she mean by 'poof'?"

ooOoo

****Tesco's** is a large supermarket chain in the UK

**Amusing piece:**

**** A humorous and whimsical look at what Sauron's ( Rupert Giles) job application for the Dark Lord might have looked like from the pen of Alcarinalata of the Rider of Rohan forums.**

POSITION APPLIED FOR: Dark Lord of Mordor (also known as Lord of Barad-dûr, Lord of the Earth).

DATE: I pen this manuscript early in the Second Age.

APPLICANT'S DETAILS: Insert passport photo

NAME: Lord Sauron

ADDRESS: …If my application is to thy liking I can most swiftly be contacted by completing a summoning incantation and ritual sacrifice to Morgoth Giver of Freedom… If this does not please thee, I can send my messenger the bat-fell Thuringwethil to wrest the outcome of my interview from thee…

RACE AND ETHNICITY (for Equal Opportunities purposes): I am a Maia of the Highest order.

ARE THERE ANY RESTRICTIONS REGARDING YOUR EMPLOYMENT?: I am available to work with any vulnerable sentient beings…

HOW MUCH NOTICE DO YOU NEED TO GIVE TO YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: Following the Great Battle between the host of the Valar and the armies of Morgoth, my employer suffered extreme prejudice, and was thrust through the Doors of Night and can never again return to Arda.

CURRENT JOB TITLE: Lieutenant of Morgoth. I was shorn of my employ when Morgoth was banished.

EDUCATION AND QUALIFICATIONS: Although I hold no formal qualifications, many ages ago I learned great craft from the Vala Aulë the Smith (may his name be forever accursed and all his labours come to naught). I specialise in rings. Having studied the arcane arts for millennia I am now become a powerful sorcerer, master of phantoms and my tyranny is torment.

EXPERIENCE AND SKILLS: In my previous employ I was the greatest of the servants of Morgoth (may his name be praised). I was the first Captain of Angband, underground fortress and Prison of Iron. My armies of Orcs and Werewolves captured the tower of Minas Tirith which stood on an isle on the river Sirion. I then peopled that isle with my Werewolves. This opened up Beleriand to attack from Angband through the Pass of Sirion. I overcame the Noldorin King Finrod Felagund in a dual of songs of power, and had him imprisoned in my dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, as the isle in the Sirion was then named. I then had Finrod and his Elves killed one by one… 'Twas I that captured the outlaw Gorlim the Unhappy, and tricked him through enchantment into betraying the hiding place of Barahir and his companions. In this way I secured the land of Dorthonion for my master. With regard to skills, I have especial esoteric knowledge concerning the speaking of tongues.

REASONS WHY YOU THINK YOU ARE SUITABLE FOR THIS POST: Although in comparison to my mentor Morgoth I may lack might, I feel that I could more than make up for this through cunning, guile, scheming and treachery. Only I have the great ambition, lust for power and vision required to be Dark Lord and Lord of the Earth. In Beleriand the people feared me so much they called me Gorthaur the Cruel (Gorthaur in the uncouth tongue of the Elves means 'The Abhorred'). I should like to corrupt and destroy the Free Peoples, starting with those races of men who were faithful to the Valar.

HOBBIES AND INTERESTS: Destruction, Oppression, Corruption and Torture of the Free Peoples.

CONTACT DETAILS OF REFEREES: …Since my master Morgoth was cast out into the Void he cannot return to Arda… However his will remaineth an influence on the world. I can testify to the thoughts of Morgoth concerning my past employ… Perhaps the most appropriate referees to give testament to my credentials are the Free Peoples of Middle-earth themselves…


	8. A Most Peculiar Bunch

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them ****belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Againmany apologies for the delay in posting another chapter. I am out of hospital now, but have had a major bout of chemo brain which is a bit like pregnancy brain. You forget things and can't concentrate properly. I will be going back into hospital in January for a stem cell transplant, we have a good donor and hopefully this will greatly increase my chances of remaining in long term remission or having a cure for the leukaemia. My counts are back up to normal at the moment and my energy levels are slowly getting there, although I have a string of really good days and a few bad days at the moment.

My book, the printed version of The Serpent and the Peacock is now available also on but not unfortunately in the UK yet. I have found a UK distributor and as soon as I get the energy to sort it out, it will be hopefully on sale in Amazon UK. At the moment you can buy it from . You can also buy it from the US, the shipping is more of course but you can get it. The sequel The Paths of the Moon in which the story of Semjaza is continued along with existing character from the first book and brand new characters should be available on in a few months.

Thank you so much once _again_ for your never-ending patience and many apologies for the delay.

ooOoo

"**Guardian**: One way or another, it can only mean an end is truly near.

**Caleb**: I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part, on account of her neck snapping and all. Did she say the end is near, or here? " 

_**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chosen**_

ooOoo

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter ****8 – A Most Peculiar Bunch**

**A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...**

"Go an' talk to him."

"_You_ go and talk to him."

"It was your idea..."

"I only said we should 'cos I thought _you _wouldn't dare."

"So you were _daring_ me?" The voice sounded louder and a little annoyed to Finrod who was standing, hands clasped lightly behind his back, on the front steps of the manor staring out into the darkness of the grounds beyond.

He knew they were there of course, two of the younger slayers in training hiding in the shadows out of plain sight, but then human plain sight is not Elven plain sight and he could see _and_ hear them quite clearly. It was amusing to listen to them arguing among themselves as to who should approach him first and in his pre reborn days he would have been very curious and approached them himself. However a few years in the Metropolitan Police had ensured he was now used to the sometimes breath-taking effect he seemed to have on mortal females, and a few males it had to be said. His beautifully sculpted lips curved up into a small, impish smile.

Finrod was a vastly different person now to the one he had been in ancient Middle-earth or Aman after his rebirth but he could still enjoy the moment and he still had much of the naughtiness that he and Glorfindel had displayed after being reborn... a naughtiness that had caused Lord Namo and his brother Irmo to practically develop grey hairs on occasions. Or at the very least led them to want to tear lumps of their hair out in despair. (1)

He debated on whether he should say something to them and decided to wait and see what ensued.

"He's got pointy ears." The first voice sounded awestruck.

The second person was apparently not impressed. "So has the bloke upstairs with the long silver hair. Kel... Kellibon or something like that."

There was a moment's silence,. "Has he? Ooo... I didn't know that. Do they all come from the same family do you think? They're all pretty tasty hunks... that really tall soldier guy in the library was fuckin' _awesome_ to look at..." Her voice broke off with a squawk as a hard hand came down on her shoulders.

"Yep they sure are pretty tasty pieces of salty goodness." Senior Slayer Faith's husky tones intervened. "But what I would like to know is why you are out here after curfew. You know the rules ..." She lowered her voice, unaware that Finrod could still hear her clearly. "...No slayers out after dark unless on patrol with seniors, especially not with our girls disappearing. You want that to happen to you?"

The two young slayers both gulped and shook their heads.

"Thought not." Faith's husky voice sounded more than a trifle smug. "Get going then, before the Slayer on duty notices you're not in your rooms."

The two girls instantly made themselves scarce, but not without a backward glance at the seemingly unconcerned Finrod. He hadn't shifted from his original position and there was no indication that he had even heard the whispered conversation. His back was to the door and so even Faith didn't see the mischievous smile on the handsome elf's face.

There was a minute's silence, but he knew that Faith was still there looking at him. He could even detect that there was a frown creasing her brow and he waited for the inevitable comment.

"Sorry about that." She said.

He turned to her without a smile and with one golden eyebrow raised. "Why do you apologise to me, child of the Atani?"

Faith's mouth dropped open. "Child of the what..._who_?"

"Atani is the Quenya name for the Race of Men" Finrod supplied. "The Atani were also known as the second-born in times past."

Faith's brow creased even more ferociously. "Whaddya mean... men were second-born? Do you mean after the monkeys or somethin'?"

Now it was Finrod's turn to look perturbed. "Monkeys?"

"Yeah, like apes, primitive men were like apes, at least that's what I think it means...eva...eva...eva something."

"Faith means on the evolutionary scale Lord Findarato." Giles's quiet voice interrupted the conversation. He stepped out of the doorway behind Faith. "It has long been the contention scientifically that humans share their ancestry with the monkey or the ape since there are so many similarities physiologically and that they _evolved_ into what they are today. Most humans these days aren't even aware that the Second-born were so called because they arrived _after _the Elves awoke at Cuivenen. Indeed, only Eru knows what their origins were because by the time you found the first group of men, they were already fairly well advanced from their origins. This world is far older than most people realise." He broke off and smiled at Faith. "I think Buffy might be looking for you Faith."

Faith rolled her eyes as she headed back into the house. "Okay, sure thing Boss." She cast a look back at Finrod. "Sorry again bub. I'll make sure the girls don't bother you again."

Finrod and Giles watched Faith as she sauntered back. Finrod looked confused.

"Bub?"

Giles chuckled. "Ah, Faith and the great and sometimes hideous American vernacular. Bub...now how would I describe what a Bub is? Let me see... it's a term of familiar address, usually used for a man or a boy. I rather imagine that it's a shortening of the word brother." He looked at the elf. "_Were _the girls bothering you?"

Finrod sighed. "No...they were merely curious and I didn't mind. They are young still."

Giles sighed. "Unfortunately they grow older far too quickly in their line of work." There was a slightly bitter tinge to his voice.

Finrod stared at Giles. There seemed little left of the Dark Lord that he had been as described by those who had both fled Sauron's attempt to take over Endore and who had fought against him there and yet there was something about his eyes that seemed so familiar. Who was it that this man who had been a Maia once reminded him of?

Giles bore the Elven Prince's scrutiny without expression or reaction. He remembered Finrod from Valinor of course. As the eldest child of Arafinwe and Earwen, both the children of Kings, the newborn princeling had been duly presented to the Valar after birth and although Giles had not been Aule's head Maia and in attendance on his Lord at that presentation, he _had_ been present. He heaved an inward sigh. It was all such a damnably long time ago and yet it also just seemed like yesterday. He could still picture Arafinwe's pride as he showed the Valar the first fruits of his and his wife's union, but he hadn't missed the slight look of restlessness on King Finwe's face even as his new grandson was the centre of attention. As always, Finwe's thoughts had probably been with his first-born, Feanor. None of his children by Indis had taken a place of such importance in Finwe's world as the one known as the Spirit of Fire, his son by Miriel Serinde, his first wife. Feanor had also been Lord Aule's pride and joy, and it was often remarked by Aule's Maiar, of which Giles had been one, that the Vala Smith had invested much in the child and then the adult and his remarkable abilities.

Feanor had eventually created something wonderful in the Silmarils, something nobody else had created and that creation had even surpassed the creation of his own children. Ultimately that creation of the jewels had set in motion a chain of horrific events that would rock both Valinor _and_ Middle-earth and lead to great mistrust in the Noldor from Lord Aule. Who would have thought that day, as the squalling Elven newborn with his fuzz of silver-gold hair was proudly passed around the doting parents and the Valar, that Prince Findarato would choose to follow his Uncle into Endore and would eventually rule his own kingdom only to end up being torn apart by wolves in his own tower saving a warrior from the race of Men.

"I imagine that my presence is not the most welcome one in your life." He finally said hesitantly.

Finrod, who had been lost in his own thoughts, stared at the former fallen Maia thoughtfully. "In truth, it was Melkor who was most unwelcome when I realised that he was here in a dis-incarnated form. I find myself wondering what he is up to."

"He is not to be trusted in any form." Giles said shortly. "And he's already caused more than enough grief for both me and the Slayers in the form of the First Evil, however, it's fairly obvious that his wings have been clipped by Lord Ulmo and the Senior Partners both and that someone or something is trying to use him to manipulate events here in Middle-earth, Valinor and in the Timeless Halls and to my mind that make this someone a lot more dangerous than him at the moment."

"How many?"

Giles was startled at the abrupt question. "How many what?"

"How many of your young slayers have disappeared?" Finrod asked patiently.

Giles leaned against one of the stone pillars that formed the portico above the entrance to the manor house. "Far too many. We always knew we would lose some of them in the fight against the vampires and demons, but eventually we realised that the losses were often during times and in circumstances that were not attributable to either. I think it was probably only a few months ago that we realised that the slayers were being culled." His lips twisted in both anger and distress. "As for actual numbers, well...at least a hundred so far. At the beginning we just counted them in with the expected losses, so it may well be a few more. It's now got to the stage where there are less and less Slayers being awakened which we thought would probably happen naturally anyway once the magic awakening the potentials began to decay, but we realised that we were increasingly not getting to those who did awaken in time. Then the slayers we _did_ have started to disappear."

"This someone else was getting to them first?" Finrod said softly.

Giles nodded. "Yes, we think so now. I didn't really connect it with the wider picture though until Celeborn and Earendil arrived in our midst. At that time I had no idea that Osse was with them at the behest of Lord Ulmo. After a few...um...misunderstandings, we then realised after Melkor kindly informed us of it that Osse had been arrested by the local police as a suspect in the murder of the cemetery caretaker. We decided we needed to rescue him and that's when we arrived at the same time you and Eönwë appeared. The rest you know. I suppose what we really need to do is hit the research and try to find out who would have the nerve to pit the Timeless Halls, Valinor and earth against each other. I've racked my brain but at the moment I am all out of ideas. This...whatever it is, is something different, something we've never had to face before."

His hand fluttered away in a helpless and rather weary gesture from where it had been shoved in the pocket of his trousers and Finrod felt a sudden pity for him. Rupert Giles was a tired man. He no longer had the boundless strength and immortality of a Maia. He was in a wholly mortal form and he had fought the good fight with his slayer for far too long.

"I would normally say that it was long past time that you should return to Valinor my friend." Finrod put a gentle hand on his shoulder and felt the former Maia shudder slightly at the touch. "Were it not for the fact that it would seem that Valinor is closed to all of us."

"For now at least..." A gentle, but rich voice interrupted him and Eönwë also stepped out onto the porch. "For better or for worse we are all that is left to fight this new foe, _whatever_ it is. We cannot rely on help from Valinor or from the Timeless Halls, the armies of mortal men cannot help, willing though they might be, even if they believed that they were at threat in the first place and they are blissfully unaware that they are. We must join forces with each other and use whatever we have at our disposal. What we desperately need at the moment is information. When the deed is done, then and only then can we return to the Blessed Realm and take what rest we need."

Giles grimaced and stood upright. He rubbed the base of his spine. "Gah...a pox on this ageing mortal body. My back aches interminably. Buffy teases me by telling me that it's old age and I get annoyed with her for doing it but she's right." He smiled at Finrod. "_You're_ right, it is _long_ past time that I should have returned and now I can't, none of us can until we sort this mess out, so let's just... have at it, do the research, find this damn enemy whoever they are, beat the shit out of them and get it over and done with so we can all go home."

He walked slowly back inside, all the time rubbing the ache in his lower back and watched by Eönwë and Finrod.

"He is tired and getting old." Finrod remarked.

"Aren't we all!" Eönwë returned with grim humour in his voice. Finrod snorted with laughter and they both followed him into Slayer Central.

ooOoo

"Oh...oh! Here's something! Oh no, er... maybe not." Dawn looked over at Willow who had made the same noises at least four times in the past half an hour and rolled her eyes.

"Could you actually stop _doing_ that Will?" Xander didn't even bother to look up from the book he was peering closely at. Andrew, who was sitting next to him, stabbed at one paragraph on the page causing the one-eyed original Scooby member to slap his hand. "Will you _stop _doing that? I read that bit already."

Andrew nursed his stinging hand and stared balefully at him. "It _might_ be something." He said crossly.

They both cringed as the tall impressive figure of Eönwë loomed over them. "What did you find?"

"It's nothing. I'm pretty sure it's nothing." Xander pointed at a paragraph on the beautifully illustrated vellum page. "Something to do with a cave somewhere up in the far north, only this olde English is very difficult to read. We're not looking for caves are we?"

Andrew tugged at Eönwë's sleeve. "But see? Those squiggles just under the illustration have to mean _something_...like a code maybe? Or...or they could be part of some long dead, very ancient language. It _could _be a deadly curse!" His voice squeaked, high with excitement.

Xander sighed. "Or they could just be a giant ink spot on the page. Like those psychological ink blot thingies."

"Rosarch." Jim said absently without looking away from the computer screen.

"Bless you." Xander immediately responded and this time they both looked at each other and burst into giggles.

Dawn shook her head in mock despair. "And here was I thinking there could only _ever_ be one Xander." She glared at the two giggling men. "Xander, Rosarch is the name of the ink blot test. I don't even know why I bother, really I don't."

"It's a bit like having the two Xanders back." Willow giggled and everyone looked at her. "You know... when Xander got divided into two by that demon?"

"Oh please, don't even _go_ there." Buffy groaned.

"I think you and Osse should take a look at these...er squiggles, Giles." Eönwë said mildly.

"Squiggles?" Giles cleaned his glasses for the millionth time and came to stand beside Eönwë who was staring down at the aforesaid squiggles with a troubled expression on his face. "What sort of...ah. Oh dear."

This time everyone looked up, Buffy and the others had learned that when Giles said 'oh dear' or 'oh lord' it usually meant something indescribably bad.

Buffy cringed. "Please don't tell me that there's another apocalypse on the way."

Osse picked the book up carefully and examined the markings. "I don't know about an apocalypse, but I do know that the language is a version of Valarin."

"Can you speak it?" Willow asked.

"Eönwë and I can." He glanced at Giles. "Can you remember how to speak Valarin?"

Buffy stared at Giles in confusion. "Why should Giles know this Valerie language?" She asked suspiciously and Melkor who had been 'sitting' on the couch opposite Celeborn sniggered, earning him a glare from the Elves and Maiar in the room. "_Giles?_"

"Erm..." Giles flushed to the roots of his thinning hair and went back to cleaning his glasses. He still hadn't figured out how to tell Buffy and the others who he actually was.

"Yes _Giles_...why don't you tell Buffy why you should know this _Valerie _language..." Melkor's sniggers had turned to distinct guffaws. "_Valerie_...brilliant. I'm really sorry that I didn't stop and get to know you better the last time we met, Buffy. I had no idea you were this funny."

Buffy stared at Melkor coldly. "Funny? Oh you have _no_ idea how funny I can be when I'm stomping your head into a bloody mush." Her voice was soft and deadly.

"A little crude perhaps." Muttered Celeborn in a very low voice to Finrod. "But how I would l_ove_ to be there when she does it."

"Get to the back of the queue." Finrod whispered back and Celeborn sniggered.

Melkor, in the meantime, had sauntered over to Buffy and laid himself down on the ground at her feet. "Oh _please_, do try it Slayer... bearing in mind that I actually don't _have _a body."

"Is it possible to make him look a little less like my uncle?" Finrod asked a little plaintively. "Because this is all very disturbing."

"Go on." Melkor, wearing the face of Feanor, taunted the Slayer. "Please do _make_ my day!"

Buffy ground her teeth together so hard that everyone in the room heard the noise and winced.

"ENOUGH!" Eönwë's exasperated voice tore through the room before Buffy could make any kind of retort and even made Melkor sit back on his heels in shock. "It's like being in a room with a bunch of toddlers... no, actually forget that. My toddler has more sense than you lot do."

"Eönwë has children?" Melkor's mouth was a round 'o' of surprise.

"Could we get back to the squiggles? I mean Valarin..." Osse asked acerbically. "Valarin is the language of the Valar and the Maiar Buffy...Va..la..rin...not Valerie. The words here are in a rather archaic version of the language."

"Oh." Buffy was momentarily distracted from her desire to pound Melkor's head into the ground. "Okay, but that still doesn't explain why Giles would know it, although he does speak a lot of languages I guess."

Giles sent a pleading look to Eönwë who took pity on him. "Yes, it's an ancient language Buffy." He said quietly. "And since Mr Giles has been a student of ancient languages, it's not surprising that he's encountered it."

For some reason this only sent Melkor off into fresh peals of laughter and made Eönwë and Osse glare at him more.

"Could you just not be here for a while?" Osse asked him.

Melkor sighed and slumped back down on the couch, or rather made it look as though he was sitting down on the couch. "Sorry, no can do...not in this form anyway."

Xander stared balefully at the former First Evil. "I'd settle for you shutting up, even if we can't get rid of you. How about that?"

Melkor affected a hurt look and examined his fingernails, polishing one on the sleeve of his jacket, but remained silent, much to everyone's relief.

"What about this ...what did you call them? Squiggles which are actually Valarin?" Earendil, who had been quietly sitting reading on the window seat up until now, diplomatically intervened before open war broke out. "I admit I have heard it spoken a few times among a couple of the Maiar who visit us in Aewellond, it sounds like a very difficult language to me. May I ask what is actually _written_ in that book?"

Eönwë held his hand out for the book which Xander willingly gave him. He frowned. "It definitely _is_ Valarin, but what it says makes little sense. It simply says rebirth or re-birthing."

"Perhaps you get reborn in the cave or something." Dawn frowned. "It doesn't say place of rebirth by any chance?"

Eönwë shook his head. "No, just rebirth."

"I suppose that the question we should be asking ourselves is what or _whose _rebirth." Celeborn said quietly.

Faith, who had quietly come into the library around the time Buffy had been threatening to pound Melkor's head into goo, finally spoke up. "Does it say just exactly how far north or where this place is? Maybe we should go take a look see."

"Is it just me or was that a really bad mangling of this English language we are speaking?" Finrod whispered to Jim who grinned at him.

"It's American slang talk." He explained.

"Ah..." Finrod's brief response spoke volumes. "However perhaps Miss Faith has a point. Perhaps we should try and find out where this place is and see if it's relevant to the research."

Xander rubbed his hands together. "A scouting party? _Now_ you're talking. I want dibs on a place in that."

"You just want to get out of researching Mister. I know your game." Willow's tone was accusatory.

"But I'm no good at the book stuff Will." Xander whined. "I'm a man of action."

Faith snorted in derision. Buffy frowned.

"I think if anyone is going to go and explore a cave it probably should be the Slayers." She said stubbornly folding her arms across her chest.

Xander looked at her. "You know Buffster, normally I would be the first to agree with you, but what if there _is_ something in that cave that's responsible for taking our slayers and then you go marching in there all willy nilly?"

Buffy looked offended. "I never go _anywhere_ all will nilly!"

"Willy nilly?" Celeborn whispered again to Earendil. "What is this willy nilly?"

Earendil shook his head in bewilderment. "I have no idea."

"But Xander has a point Buffy." Eönwë interrupted hastily. "Your young slayers are the ones who are going missing. It would be foolish to send more into possible danger. I think perhaps it would be better if we were to make a party up of those here who are not slayers. Just in case." He glanced over at Osse who was sitting staring thoughtfully at the paragraph in the book about the rebirth cave with his chin on his chest. "In any case we have yet to find out where this cave is."

"It just says in the far north. However it does mention Farochel in the other text, which used to be the frozen far north of Middle-earth itself." Osse closed the book with a snap. "I think it's safe to say that whoever we take with us, if there is danger or it is the source of that darkness from the cemetery, then it will know we are coming. We will have to go in stealth."

Eönwë sat back down at the table. "Farochel." He murmured half to himself. "The landmass of Middle-earth has changed considerably since the days of the Eldar, many of the continents have had small pieces broken away due to the ice that covered the earth thousands of years ago. This island, Britain, broke away from the rest of Europe and it is feasible that the very north of the island could have been part of the old lands of Farochel I suppose."

"Unless far north means Norway or Sweden, or perhaps Iceland." Dawn mused.

"Iceland isn't that far away from the very north of Scotland." Giles said quietly. "Even so, the term far north is a fairly broad one. Scotland is a big place, Iceland, Norway and Sweden are even bigger. I imagine that there are thousands of caves in those areas. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack."

"I could try and do a location spell." Willow offered hesitantly.

Eönwë looked at her. "What would you need to do this spell?"

She frowned in concentration. "Well I could do it with a modern map, but a map of the land as it was might be more accurate, specially if the cave has been there since the beginning. I mean we're talking thousands and thousands of years ago, even the mountain ranges will have changed. It could be high up or it could be buried. If the spell works on an old map, we can superimpose the new map over the old and find out almost exactly where it is. I just can't guarantee that we will be able to get access to it though. I have most of the ingredients for the spell, but I may need a little more Mugwort and some Lamb's Cress."

"Are they easily obtainable?" Osse inquired.

Willow's lips curved in a sweet, but mischievous smile. "I have my sources." She said mysteriously. "I'll go and email one of them now."

ooOoo

Eönwë sighed deeply as he shut his mobile phone off and slipped it into his jacket pocket, not being home with his family was torture, but talking to Kim and the children on the phone was even worse because he couldn't touch them to reassure himself that they were okay. Each time he had gone away, either because of some problem or whether his duties as General sent him on a trip he had always felt all right about it because there were always at least three Maiar warriors unclad but on duty. Now that extra defence had been removed abruptly. However he now understood why they had been withdrawn; Lord Manwë and most of the other Valar believed that the Dagor Dagorath was here and since the belief was sincere all hands were needed.

"Dagor Dagorath." He muttered under his breath, scowling at the same time. "Whose bloody bright idea was that?"

A soft chuckle alerted him to the presence of Melkor who was leaning against the door jamb. Eönwë's lips tightened into a straight compressed line.

"What do you want Melkor?"

"I didn't know that you had a family here in Middle-earth."

Eönwë swore, using words that he only ever could have learned in the British Army. "So help me Melkor, if you even _try_ to hurt my family..."

"Now now Herald, language! Shouldn't you be writing that oath in your book?" Melkor arched an eyebrow at him.

Eönwë turned to look at him properly and was a bit taken aback to find no unpleasantness or even a touch of evil in the dark Vala's eyes. In fact there was amusement with a tinge of sympathy.

"The Dagor Dagorath..." Melkor stared out over the gardens of the manor. The sun was beginning to rise, shortening shadows and painting everything with a rosy glow. "I actually never believed there would ever be a final great battle. I _always_ thought it was a tale to scare children with. To keep us in line or perhaps give we immortals something to look forward to? The fact is that the earth itself as a planet has a shelf life...a sell-by date if you like. Granted it's billions of years in the future, but what are billions of years to immortal beings?"

"Do you believe in it now?" Eönwë asked curiously.

Melkor stood for a moment and said nothing, then he turned to Eönwë. "Nope...still don't. If my time inside the Void along with all the rest of the demons and dregs of demon-kind has taught me anything, it's that people tell lies. Everyone lies. The Vala, those in the Timeless Halls, the demons, the elves and the men... in fact _they_ can be the masters of lies. What happens is that we all go on and on until the earth wears out, explodes and then we start all over somewhere else. Except, of course, for whoever is left on the earth at that stage. Men are too busy trying to wipe each other out to worry unduly about it and many of their generations will pass before the earth is too old to maintain itself."

"Why are you helping us?"

Melkor chuckled. "Ah the sixty four million dollar question. Why? Because I dislike being used and I resent being a pawn of course. Someone up there in the Timeless Halls has an agenda and I refuse to be manipulated into the one driving it. Why else?" He smiled at the Herald a little slyly. "So...quid pro quo Herald, now you should answer my question. Why are you even bothering being here?"

"Why?" Eönwë was a little astounded at the question. "Because I am here at the behest of Eru to aid mankind. Why would I _not _be here?"

Melkor gave a graceful but eloquent shrug. "Oh I don't know...because perhaps your original place was meant to be there, in Valinor, wielding your strong sword arm against me during the Dagor Dagorath perhaps?"

"This current situation is _not_ the Dagor Dagorath." Eönwë said shortly. "I think we both know that."

"Yes. You know it and I know it." Melkor gestured towards the house. "Your people know it, my former lieutenant knows it and his beloved slayers don't care, all they want is a good fight, but my Valar brethren do _not_, with the exception of Ulmo and perhaps Namo, but I am never sure about him. I once thought he would be the easiest of them to corrupt and yet he prevailed against me. I think he knows much more than he lets on to others. The trouble is that everybody knows that this is not the final battle except those in Valinor, and our brethren in the Timeless Halls have other troubles to deal with, otherwise Raguel would have been there already sowing the seeds of calm." He grinned unashamedly at Eönwë. "Face it Eönwë, you and I are on the same side for once, we are all that stands between a distracted and generally unconcerned Timeless Halls, the indifference and blind ignorance of the race of Men and the hysteria of impending war existing in the Blessed Realm at the moment."

For once in his life Eönwë could not disagree with the dark former Vala. Unfortunately, as always, they were the _only_ ones who knew what was really going on, except that they had no idea who or what was perpetrating all of this. Deep inside there was an insidious little niggle because of what Melkor was inferring about the Timeless Halls; that there was someone there, in that place of supposed purity and light, who did not have the welfare of earth or even their own brethren at heart. The very notion made him heartsick. None of them had access to the Timeless Halls unless Eru willed it so and Eru was across the other side of the universe out of contact with his people. Even if they found the source of the problem, how were they to gain access to the Halls to track down this rogue Ainur?

Part of Eönwë felt irritated that Eru needed downtime at all, wasn't he all knowing and all seeing? Yet another part of him knew that when Eru was creating there was always silence from his throne. All of the energy that comprised The One was always used in creation, which is why he had beings like the Vala, Archangels, Maiar and Angels to see to everything else.

"Don't be too hard on Eru, Eönwë." Melkor seemed to see right through his thoughts and it momentarily alarmed him. "And stop worrying, you shield your thoughts from me remarkably well, although my sojourn in the Void has dimmed my abilities somewhat. However, _your_ current thoughts are plainly written across your face. I know you don't trust me; you have no reason to, but in this at least we are of one mind, we need to find the source of the power that is emanating across the globe. I suspect that the reason the young slayers are being culled is because for the most part, they are untouched by the hand of men and they also have great power. In addition they are earth's warriors against all darkness and evil, take _them_ out and you weaken earth's defences considerably. We know for sure that the armies of men will have no effect against it. Whatever this is, it has gone against the younger slayers first because the older slayers are more in touch with themselves, their calling and the evil around them, but it _will_ come for them...and soon."

"I need to get in touch with Joaquim and the other Grigori." Eönwë said worriedly. "I think we need all the help we can get. The trouble is that I don't think they're in Vevey at the moment. They may be en route to northern Iraq."

Melkor frowned and drew himself up straight. "Northern Iraq? Why... wait, never mind...I know why. You are speaking about Semjaza aren't you?" He came closer to Eönwë and made as if to grip his arm, but of course being incorporeal he couldn't. "The Grigori are going to Kharsag aren't they? Why are they going there?"

Eönwë was filled with uncertainty. How much of the story of the past couple or three years concerning the Grigori should he be telling Melkor? The penny began to drop, Semjaza had two possible fates, he would make a choice that would either be the saving or the destruction of the world and the human race and that choice would be made in Kharsag, which was originally Eden and which held a repository of lore and wisdom second to none in the entire universe. His heart nearly stopped and the expression on his face told Melkor clearly what he wanted to know.

"Semjaza is free." Melkor whispered, half to himself. "And he goes to make his choice in Kharsag and the fate of humankind, and indeed even the Timeless Halls and Valinor, stands in the balance. This rogue Ainur is trying to manipulate those events and we are all in great peril."

By this time Eönwë's heart had sunk to the bottom of his boots. Why hadn't he linked the two sets of events? Semjaza was a being of great power; a power that had been invested in him by Eru himself through the High Lord Anu, the lord of the earthbound Grigori, now resident back in the Timeless Halls. If Semjaza chose to be on the side of darkness, then his power would know no bounds. Those in the Halls would be split down the middle and something much worse than the Dagor Dagorath would begin... the battle for the Timeless Halls would rip through the universe and tear earth apart taking the human race and the elves, and everything else for that matter with it.

He didn't know how long he had stood there with the coldness and fear washing over him, he only realised that he had sunk down onto his haunches against the wall when Osse's concerned voice filtered through to his brain and he looked up, desperately trying to focus through the dark veil over his vision.

"Eönwë? What is it? What happened?"

"He's coming out of it." Xander's matter of fact tones actually got through to Eönwë quicker than anything else. As his vision cleared, Xander's friendly features gradually came into focus. The Herald tried to speak, to form words, but nothing would come except a strangled moan at first.

"_What_ did you _do_?" Eönwë shook his head and cleared his vision to find an extremely incensed Buffy standing over Melkor.

"He did nothing." Eönwë finally managed weakly. "In fact I think he has been instrumental in figuring out why this is all happening at this time."

"Let's get him inside into the warmth of the library." Dawn, ever practical these days, gestured to Osse and Finrod to help Eönwë to his feet. "Someone go get a drink of brandy or something for him."

Moments later Eönwë had a glass of restorative brandy cupped in his hands and an audience of increasingly alarmed and worried people as he and Melkor recounted the conversation they had just had with each other.

After they had both finished explaining what they believed was happening, everyone was quiet, busy trying to internalise the sheer unmitigated horror and enormity of the situation. Finally Buffy broke the silence.

"Okay, so what kind of demon is this Shemyazi guy and how do I kill him?"

ooOoo

A reference to **Fiondil's **wonderful depictions of Findarato and Glorfindel in his Elf Interrupted, Elf Interrupted 2 and In Darkness Bound series of stories on Stories of Arda.


	9. The best laid schemes of mice and men

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them ****belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to them properly, but FFN is being flouncy and not allowing authors to reply to reviews. But thank you thank you anyway. I make absolutely no apologies for the Buffy quote below not entirely fitting the tone of the chapter, other than it made me cackle.

ooOoo

" _**Xander Harris**_**:** Is she dying?  
_**Buffy**_**: **I think she's singing.  
_**Xander Harris**_: To a telephone in Hindi. Now that's entertainment. Why is she singing?  
_**Willow Rosenberg**_**: **She's sad because her lover gave her twelve gold coins. But then the wizard cut open the bag of salt, and now the dancing minions have nowhere to put their big maple... fish thing.  
_**Xander Harris**_**: **Uh-huh. Why is she singing?  
_**Buffy**_**:** Her lover? I thought that was her chiropractor?  
_**Willow Rosenberg**_**:** Because of that thing he did with her feet? No. That was personal. "

_**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Reptile Boy**_

ooOoo

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 9 – The best laid schemes of mice and men**

**A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...**

Buffy watched from a large bay window in a lounge area for the slayers which was situated on the top floor of the manor as another dark coloured SUV drove slowly up the winding drive. It was a suitable day for dark deeds and thoughts; windy and gloomy with the wind lashing at the branches of the trees. She felt a momentary pang for the sunshine of California but stamped on it immediately. California might have had lots of sun, but despite that fact it also had dark places and in many ways she felt more at ease here in rainy old Scotland than she ever had in Sunnydale or even Los Angeles. The vampire community wasn't as prevalent for a start.

_Los Angeles.._.

She bit her lip. It was difficult to talk or even think about LA since the business with the Black Thorn that Angel and his people had got involved with. It was a typical act of Angel's, to recklessly take on the lead in something that would lead to his ultimate demise and he took some good people with him including Spike, as she had found out much later on, and yet he _was_ responsible for stopping the end of the world on that occasion. In a way she hoped that he had been given his reward from the Powers; perhaps he was somewhere in the world as a human and happy whilst living a normal life, perhaps both he _and_ Spike were, god knows they had earned it, but she was annoyed with him for not telling her what was going on. The Slayers could have helped and the outcome might have been vastly different.

_Normal._..

What in the name of anything that was holy was normal? She couldn't have answered anyone if they _had_ asked her, but if she had a stab at it, normal would be meeting a man without any complications, like being a vampire for instance, falling in love, getting married and settling down with a couple of kids.

_Settling down? Children?_

She rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding? Normal wasn't meant for her or anyone around her and there was no way she would want to bring kids into a world that was constantly under some threat or other, either by the humans who lived in it and their wars or the supernatural side and their constant striving for power.

Oddly enough, the two groups weren't entirely unalike in their endeavours.

If Buffy had been having this conversation out loud instead of inside her head, she knew damn fine that everyone would look at her as if she had grown a couple of heads. This was Buffy for god's sake, Buffy of the shoes and the stylish pants and the halter tops and the slay-age. Buffy was all about either the extremely shallow or the deep darkness and violence, there was no middle path with her and _that's _what they would be confused about. Yet she did have deep thoughts quite often. She just never said them out loud for everyone to hear.

And here she was having some. She mentally slapped herself upside the head. Buffy and deep thoughts were probably very un-mixy things. She needed to stop and get her mind back on the job. Slaying was the one constant in her life... oh, and Giles, and of course Dawn. The rest might come and go, but those two and the slaying were always there.

"Well that makes three constants." She said aloud.

"Who's Constance?" Xander's voice sounded quite close to her ear and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"For god's sake Xander, people who creep up on a person should be punished. You could at least wear a little bell around your neck or something." She grumbled.

Xander stood for a moment, various expressions warring on his face, then he chuckled. "I didn't think it would go with the eye patch Buff."

Buffy giggled and the sound warmed Xander. Despite her grouchiness since the arrival of the Elves and that real soldier, the one who apparently was some sort of angel, she had actually been a lot calmer and reflective inside. Xander had known her from the beginning and he could now sense her ever changing moods. The stress levels had definitely come down, albeit slowly, and Xander had a feeling that the reason for that was because of the General and the other angel type, man...thing... whatever. They sort of generated an air of well-being and calm. What were they called again? Marias? No _that_ couldn't be right. It was definitely something like that though.

"So, what's the what Buff? Whatcha got going on in that mind of yours?" He asked brightly.

Buffy shrugged. "Oh I don't know, lots of stuff. The weather, Sunnydale, LA and Angel, evil, slaying... same old, same old. Other girls think about men and going out on dates or getting married, I think about apocalypses, weapons, battle tactics and decapitation."

Xander noticed that she didn't mention Spike in the list of thoughts and he also avoided bringing up the subject, mainly because he was never sure what to say. He hadn't and didn't approve of her relationship with the vampire. In fact he was more or less incapable of understanding her predilection for vampires as mates in the first place, although he was certainly more understanding about it these days. Spike had saved the world from the First Evil by sacrificing himself; Angel had done the same in LA. It was a shame; they deserved better than a horrible death for their efforts and he was sorry that it hit Buffy so hard, but part of him couldn't help thinking it was for the best in the long run.

Then she had met the Immortal.

Just when Xander thought it was safe to relax, the next man she took up with was a creature as dark and as ancient as any vampire. Xander had long since given up any idea that Buffy would be interested in himself as a mate, but he couldn't help thinking she might have been better off if she had been. But would _he_ have been better off? That was another question for another time.

"Thoughts are bad." He blurted out impulsively, not liking where his thoughts were headed. "They lead to the awkward silences and then more of the badness."

Buffy turned from the window and gawked at him. "What in the world brought that on?"

He blushed. "Oh, I don't know... your thoughts led to my thoughts."

"Which led to badness?" Buffy enquired, arching her eyebrow at him and trying not to feel insulted.

"Oh _look._" Xander looked out of the window, desperately looking for a reason to change the subject. "_More_ visitors and a...um...Buff, not sure what this guy is but he doesn't look completely human. Not demon either though. He's a bit like the General and Ozzy or maybe he's an Elf. Very tall with long dark hair. Come to think of it they're _all_ very tall with long dark hair." Xander was still struggling with the notion that Elves weren't tiny little creatures with pointy hats and shoes and didn't make toys with Santa Claus in the North Pole. Next thing they'd be telling him that Snoopy was a cartoon character.

Buffy pressed her nose against the window pane. "_Ooh,_ pretty _and_ shiny. Lots of pretty men in the house. Faith will be in her element. Which one are you talking about...never mind." She flapped her hand at him. "I see him. Tall, broad shoulders, nice legs and long black hair, _very_ gorgeous and probably an Elf. The height of gorgeousness in fact. Is gorgeousness a real word do you think? I wonder if he has a girlfriend, he's _got _to have a girlfriend. No man who looks like that would be on his own. The General is also pretty and _he's_ married and so are both the other Elves, Kellibon and thingamabob, although the General is also one of the Powers, which is a _very_ bad thing to my mind, but this one...oh salty goodness, as Faith would say."

Xander put his hands on her shoulders and drew her away from the window. "Steady on there Slayer, you're starting to do a good line in Willow Babble. You _know_ what happens when you get too excited don't you? Although if he isn't human, he could be just the guy for you!"

"What did you mean by that?" Buffy looked offended. "I'm not so shallow that I only like pretty and...and not human men." She pulled out of his grasp and headed for the door.

"Was it something I said?" Xander asked pitifully. "Where are you going?"

Buffy stopped in the doorway for a moment, hands on hips. "I can't meet him looking like this." She pointed to her perfectly smart and fine black fitted trousers and peach coloured blouse. "And my hair is like a rat's nest. Did you _see_ _his _hair? Shiny, perfect, long, lustrous. Do you see my hair? I can't go and meet him with ratty hair!"

Xander looked at Buffy's perfectly coiffed shiny, bouncy hair and sighed. The man _had _looked like an advert for L'Oreal hair products that was for sure. He raked the fingers of one hand through his own cropped hair unconsciously. "No, of course not."

_Perish the thought._ He said to himself. _I just hope she doesn't go rushing in there and ask him outright if he has a girlfriend._

ooOoo

"So it's settled then. We need a group to head to the Deeper Well and another to head to wherever this blasted cave is."

Giles felt peevish. He had not had enough sleep, he looked and felt like walking death and there were Eönwë, Finrod and Osse looking as fresh as the proverbial daisies. He was only mildly mollified by the fact that both Jim Moore and Earendil looked a little worse the wear for their all-nighter research binge.

Eönwë's lips twitched, he could sense the fact that Giles was both peeved and stressed and guessed the reason. He wondered whether to suggest that Giles should perhaps go and take a nap and decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

"I believe that would be the best way to approach this. I think perhaps the Deeper Well group should be comprised of Slayers and I suggest that they need a non-slayer with them, maybe even two or three. Certainly one of us needs to go with them to ask the right questions." He turned to Osse. "I think perhaps you should go with the slayer group...maybe take Findarato or Celeborn with you. Or perhaps even Earendil. I will head the group in search of the cave myself and I'll take Giles, Jim, Xander and Willow with me. I've asked for reinforcements as well, Makalaure and Ereinion are bringing Elladan with them from Vevey, the Grigori kindly loaned us their private jet so they should be arriving soon. Maksim and the others will be remaining in Aldershot to look after Kim and the children, although Maksim has had a visitor from his old coven in eastern Europe who he is sending up here. Apparently he has some news and information which could be relevant to what we do here."

Giles hesitated slightly. He took off his glasses, peered through them and then put them back on the bridge of his nose. He used the ever present handkerchief to blow his nose.

"Er... eastern European coven?" He queried. There was a slightly worried frown on his face. "Are we talking vampire coven by any chance?"

Eönwë did smile at him this time, guessing the reason for his unease. "Yes, Kiril is the head of Maksim's old order. He came to Aldershot late the other night apparently looking for me rather urgently."

Giles stared down at his shoes for a moment and then looked up into the Herald's amused dark blue eyes. He was sure that Eönwë was more than able to read his thoughts and his concerns, but he opened his mouth and spoke them out loud anyway. "You're bringing a vampire in here among a large group of vampire slayers?"

"Kiril and his coven don't interfere with the normal human population." Eönwë said gently. "They're not like the kind of vampires that Buffy and the slayers fight. They are a great deal more refined than that."

Giles nodded slowly. "I get that, but I wonder whether the slayers will. Some of them are young and untrained. It's one of the problems we have with the newly awakened slayers. They have raw power, but without maturity, self discipline and training, they can be dangerous; feral even. That's the bad aspect of the demon essence their line is imbued with down from the First Slayer. When they are very young and untrained their control is not all it should be and we train them hard here before allowing them out on their own to patrol."

Eönwë stared at him for a good couple of minutes and only responded when Giles was starting to get flustered and hot under the collar under the scrutiny. "They will _not _misbehave when I or Osse are present I assure you and I will take Kiril with me when we go in search of the cave, if he is willing to do so, otherwise I will make sure he is given passage back safely to his stronghold."

This time it was Giles's turn to be amused. He had already seen how the slayers gave a lot of respect to both Maiar in the house. It wasn't that either Eönwë or Osse demanded it, it was more a case of the subtle effect of being in the presence of powerful other worldly beings. He had no doubt that both Maiar could be the iron fist in the velvet glove in any potentially explosive situation between young slayer and vampire if they had to be. For a moment he regretted the loss of his immortality, but pulled himself up immediately.

"Fair enough." He said mildly. "I have _no _doubt that the slayers will listen to you..."

But whatever else he might have said was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell clanging.

ooOoo

Ereinion could feel someone watching them as he got out of the SUV. There was a distinct prickling down the back of his neck and he instinctively looked around. There _were_ people in the grounds of the large house, and like any Elf he could sense them; guards, he presumed, but it wasn't any of them who were causing his unease. He then glanced up and saw a fair haired woman looking down at him from a large window on the upper storey of the house, nose pressed against the window pane and his mouth twitched uncontrollably with laughter as he tried to work out which one of them she was looking at so intently.

Was it Maglor with his sharp clever, yet undeniably fair features? He had the best parts of both mother and father; the kind eyes of his mother Nerdanel and the dark good looks of his father Feanor. Or was it Elladan, the undeniably fair son of Elrond and a Peredhel like his father.

It never once occurred to the former High King of the Noldor in Exile, that _he _might have been the subject of the intense scrutiny.

They had flown from Geneva on the Grigori Enterprises private jet and landed briefly at Farnborough to refuel. From there they had flown again to a small private airfield just outside Aberdeen and picked up a hired SUV which Maglor had driven, expertly manoeuvring the narrow Scottish country roads as if he had been driving there forever...which for all Ereinion knew might have been correct, since Maglor was the only one of them who had remained in Middle-earth.

The face disappeared from the window in an agitated flurry of blonde hair and Ereinion duly turned his attention to the large and imposing polished wood doors currently being opened up in response to Maglor ringing the doorbell.

They were greeted by a young human girl with shaggy light brown hair, cut very short on one side and chin level on the other and large brown eyes currently narrowed in suspicion.

"Yeah?"

If Maglor was taken aback by the abruptness of the greeting he didn't show it. He smiled at the youngster and bowed with one hand over his heart.

"May we speak to Dr Rupert Giles or Major General Matthews if either are available? They are expecting us. I am Makalaure, this is Ereinion and our young friend over there is Elladan."

The girl's brows drew together in a scowl. "Are you Elves?" She asked suspiciously. "We heard you would be Elves. I need to see your ea..." She broke off suddenly with a high pitched squawk and was pulled back from the open door by an invisible someone.

"_I can't believe you were actually going to ask them to show you their ears!"_ They heard a shocked whispered aside from the invisible someone which made them all laugh softly.

Her place was taken almost immediately by a friendly looking young man with pleasant features and a black eye patch over his left eye.

"Sorry guys." He said cheerfully. "Slayers... you know, they're a pretty suspicious natured bunch. Xander Harris at your service. Welcome to Slayer Central on behalf of all of us. Just leave any bags you might have in the car. I'll get a couple of the girls to bring them in. G-Man and the General are waiting for you in the library."

"_G-Man?"_ Elladan mouthed as they followed him into the cavernous hall with its white and black tiled floor.

Ereinion and Maglor both shrugged.

ooOoo

Dawn stared at her sister critically, starting with the neat but stylish brown suede ankle boots with the four inch heels and the pale beige skinny jeans topped with a rose pink silk halter top and ending up at the hair carefully styled into an up-do and pinned at the top with a pink flower slide.

"And all this trouble you've gone to would be for...?"

Buffy flushed. "Nobody."

"I see." Dawn's lips twisted wryly and she circled around her sister to get the full effect. "Nobody. This... _nobody_ couldn't be our gorgeous new visitors by any chance could it?"

"New visitors? There are new visitors?" Buffy blustered. "_I _didn't see anybody."

Dawn shook her head in mild exasperation. She knew Buffy knew about the new arrivals and Buffy knew that Dawn knew Buffy knew. Still, seeing Buffy interested in something other than slaying or training the potentials for a change was actually a good thing; a sign that she was getting back to normal after Angel and Spike and the LA disaster. "Three more Elves as it happens, as if the house wasn't upside down with the beautiful looking men to start with. They're in the library with Giles and that General person. Yonway, or whatever his name is."

Buffy gave her an anxious look and smoothed down the already smooth material of her jeans. "Too much?"

Dawn was delivered from the pitfall of answering a question that only boded ill for an acceptable answer, much to her relief.

"_Hell_ B... lookin' good girl." Faith sashayed down the passage, the epitome of the word sultry. She walked around Buffy eyeing her up and down. "What's the occasion? I s'pose it couldn't possibly be all the hot guys here at the Nunnery could it?" Faith herself was dressed in her habitual skin tight black leathers and a low cut silky crimson tee shirt.

"I...I..." Buffy gave up and pouted. "It's no fair, I wear something sexy for a change, _and _I might add, something I would also slay in, in fact I've worn this halter _many_ times for slaying, and suddenly _everyone's_ a critic. Faith wanders around looking like something out of a...a sexy_ biker_ movie all the time and _nobody _says a word!"

"Sexy biker movie? They make movies specially for sexy bikers?" Faith goggled at her. "Geez who knew?"

Dawn rolled her eyes at both of them. "Easy Rider was a sort of biker movie." They both stared at her in utter non-comprehension and she shrugged. Easy Rider wouldn't have been either Slayer's idea of a chick flick anyway.

"Are you ladies actually going to join us or..." Giles came out of the library and stopped dead at the sight of Buffy dressed up to the nines. He hastily removed the glasses and started to clean them as if he required clean glasses to confirm what he was seeing.

Faith rolled her eyes, took them off him and stuck them back on his nose.

"The glasses look _fine_ Giles and _no_, you're not seein' things. After months of wearing the same blue jeans, sneakers and baggy tee shirts, Buff the Fashion Plate Slayer is back in operation. I ain't too sure whether that's a good or a bad thing yet." She added cheerfully and headed into the library followed by Buffy and Dawn and leaving an astonished and confused looking Giles standing in the corridor with his mouth open.

"Are you _coming _then?" Buffy stopped at the door and demanded imperiously at him.

"I was...I was _already_...oh never mind." Giles gave up and followed her into the room.

ooOoo

**Three hours later...**

Giles wasn't sure whether it was the commanding presence of Eönwë and Osse or not, but the arguments that he feared would, and usually did, happen when Buffy was faced with_ anyone_ who challenged her alpha status didn't happen. She was in fact remarkably compliant. So much so that Giles immediately felt suspicious and, he could see by the expression on their faces, so did Willow and Dawn. Faith was blithely unaware of anything wrong, as usual, although it might just have been relief that Buffy was not her usual antagonistic self. Xander just seemed vastly relieved that there was no major tension.

Of the three newcomers, Giles was only acquainted with Maglor and Ereinion and the first time he had met the latter face to face was when, as Annatar, he had come to the borders of Ereinion's kingdom and had requested, and subsequently been refused, entry. Instead Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor in Exile had ridden to the border with his Herald, Elrond Earendilion, father of the young dark haired Peredhel currently seated at the library table. Annatar had still been denied entry and Giles could vaguely recall feeling immense rage which he covered with a false smile and as much charm as he could muster at the time before heading off to Eregion where Celebrimbor welcomed him as a fellow artisan. The next, and last, time they met, his... no _Sauron's_ blow had cut Ereinion down where he stood and his body had burned with the fire of Sauron's touch.

Maglor _knew_ who Giles had been, that was a certainty, although he didn't make any mention of it. If Ereinion realised, he gave no sign that he did and Giles relaxed a little, although he still felt very uncomfortable. He knew he would have to talk to Buffy and the others eventually, but he honestly didn't feel like it right then. Any form of confrontation between him and the Eldar who were there would have brought on the need for explanations prematurely.

"I expected more of a fight from Buffy." Eönwë's voice sounded in his ear as they took a much welcomed refreshment break.

Giles' lips twisted wryly. "Yes, well I think perhaps your commanding presence has a lot to do with it, but don't congratulate yourself too much yet... I have a feeling that the presence of one certain beautiful Elda might have had even more to do with it." He looked over towards where Buffy was standing talking sixteen to the dozen and looking more animated than he had seen her look for a long, long time to a rather bemused looking Ereinion. It was immediately clear to both Giles and Eönwë that the elf was having a hard time understanding Buffy's California girl vernacular and both mortal and Maia laughed at exactly the same time.

"Great minds think alike, my friend." Eönwë laughed softly and gripped Giles's shoulder in a companionable way.

Giles quirked an eyebrow at him. "And the remainder of that saying is "Lesser minds seldom differ!" He quipped dryly causing Eönwë's laugh to ring out loudly this time.

Melkor had, for once, sat quietly in the corner of the room and watched the display. He was, of course, not acquainted with Ereinion Gil-galad, but he was aware that the former High King had lost his life at the hands of Sauron who was now Rupert Giles. It vaguely amused him that both of them were subtly avoiding each other during the meeting. Giles wore a faint flush on his cheeks every time he looked at Ereinion and Ereinion just looked very uncomfortable. It amused Melkor vastly to imagine the last time those two met face to face on a battlefield known as Dagorlad, a vast plain just before the gates of Mordor where Sauron had his stronghold and where the decisive and bloody battle in the War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men was fought.

"Methinks the smile on your face does not bode well for anyone Moringotto." Finrod's quiet voice intruded into Melkor's thoughts.

Melkor pouted...or at least as near to a pout as Feanor's firm, but beautifully sculpted lips could manage. "I never did like that name."

"There were many things that my Uncle did which I did not agree with, but in that, he named you aptly." Finrod's reply was matter of fact, but with an underlying grimness. "You were Moringotto then and you are the same now, no matter whose face you wear."

Melkor shrugged. "I needed the form of someone who is dead or had died in order to present myself. Would you have preferred that I take that of your grandfather, King Finwe's form instead? Or perhaps that of Nolofinwe or Turucano? Or maybe I could have thoroughly upset the apple cart and taken on a likeness of Maitimo, who I believe is now reborn?"

Finrod glared at him. "I would prefer you to be honest and use your own." he snapped.

For the first time Melkor's malice seemed to falter. "I cannot." He whispered.

Finrod who had turned his back and been about to walk away snapped around to face the Dark, fallen Vala. "What?"

"I cannot take my own form; that which I possessed since being sent by Atto into Arda with the others. It is forbidden me."

Finrod was utterly astounded to see the regret in Melkor's eyes. "What form do you take in the Void?" he asked curiously.

Again Melkor shrugged. "I am formless in the Void, but on those very few occasions that I interact with others, such as the demons and creatures who reside there, I take on Elven form or sometimes the form of mortal man. They rarely make contact with me though. Although my powers are stripped from me as one of the Ainur, my fellow Valar could not strip away the darkness that surrounds me and others fear it greatly...and so they should. They fear me and leave me alone."

Finrod felt a frisson of pity for the first time. Despite his attempt at being laissez faire about not being allowed to take his habitual form, it obviously upset Melkor, possibly more than anything else. It also showed Melkor's true and very lonely existence in a dark and lonely place as the monster even other monsters feared.

"I am sorry." He said rather helplessly.

Melkor looked up and looked at him. "Thank you for that at least." he said quietly, no trace of his usual sneering arrogance in his tone. The form of Feanor shimmered for a moment and blurred, then settled down into the simple form of an dark auburn haired elf with deep green eyes similar to Maedhros, but with entirely different, softer lines to the face and a much more slender build. "Is this better?" he asked.

Finrod started back. "Yes...but who..."

"Who is he, whose form I have taken?"

Finrod nodded.

"Oddly enough, this was an Elda who I had no hand in destroying, or at least not directly." Melkor's tone was wry. "When I still had bodily form, I came across him in one of my many secret sorties out of Thangorodrim. He had been captured and ... _used _very badly by some of my Orcs and did not know who I was. How could he since he was of the Avari who fled from me and would not travel to Valinor when Orome came to lead the Elves into a better place? He begged me to kill him, to end his misery, but for some reason his wild beauty spoke to me and instead I cut him down and healed his injuries." He put his hand out sharply as Finrod opened his mouth, obviously to ask why. "Do not ask me why I did it. Even now I do not know. I saw to him as he healed and eventually we took our leave of each other. He thanked me, however his reprieve was short-lived as he was killed not long after. I felt him die for some reason. When you spoke to me earlier of feeling disturbed at me using the face of your uncle, his face came to mind."

Finrod looked critically at the new form. "I think it's a better look for you and perhaps since you helped him, he would not object. It is quite possible that he has been reborn from the Halls of Waiting you know."

"I hope so." Melkor turned away and faced the blaze in the fireplace.

"Everything is being turned on its head." muttered Finrod as he turned away to join the others who were now discussing the arms they would need for each expedition. Truly, people were full of surprises these days.

ooOoo

The Elves watched in fascination as Willow cast her location spell, first over the map in the north and then to find the location of the Deeper Well in a more generalised map of the earth. The colour of the revolving crystal reflected on the witch's pixie face and large green eyes in a kaleidoscope of colours. She spoke strange words softly, half under her breath and for one tiny heartbeat the roots of her red hair darkened and then lightened again. Finally it hovered over a part of the map, still spinning swiftly and then slowly until it came to a complete stop. Willow placed a finger at that point in order to mark it with a small cross in red pen.

"Gotcha." She said gleefully and then opened the other map in order to do the same. The Elves let out a collective breath that they hadn't even known they were holding in.

For Giles, the Watchers and the Slayers who were present, this wasn't a strange sight. All of them had seen Willow cast the location spell many times before and for many varying reasons, but it was a source of fascination for the Elves and Earendil. The only two, three if you counted Melkor, who didn't seem fascinated and in fact looked a little concerned, were Eönwë and Osse. Spells were part of the dark side of the Slayers and Witches strength and because both Maia were utterly pure in heart and deed, it sat ill with them to involve themselves in any part of it.

Melkor growled under his breath as he recognised the influence from beings that were God-like, and yet not Gods, but were both Pagan _and_ uncivilised... the witch's power was indeed strong and had its foundations deep in the earth. At heart she was a child of Yavanna, but her abilities also stank of the influence of such Pagan deities as Osiris and Set. This was not a good thing.

Both Eönwë and Osse registered Melkor's disapproval and glanced at each other, but each acknowledged that there was no time to go into this with him, even if the Dark Vala was prepared to speak to them about it. They also had two important expeditions to take care of.

Willow stabbed her finger victoriously on the part of the map which held the location of the Deeper Well. "There ya go." She said with a note of triumph. "The Deeper Well is there, but we'd better go with a few people...it's well guarded."

Before Eönwë could make any comment the library door opened and one of the young slayers stood hesitantly in the doorway.

"There's a weird looking guy at the front door." She announced. "He stinks of vamp, but he don't look anything like any vamp I've ever seen. Want me to let him in or do I get to stake him?"

ooOoo

**Moringotto.**.. The Quenya form of Morgoth. The name _Morgoth_ is Sindarin (one of Tolkien's invented languages) and _means_ "Black Foe of the World" The name of Morgoth was given to Melkor by Feanor.

**Maitimo...** The Quenya form of Maedhros who was the eldest son of Feanor

**Thangorodrim...** Melkor's (Morgoth) name for part of his stronghold in Angband in the north of Beleriand

**Nolofinwe... ** Fingolfin's name in Quenya. Fingolfin was a son of King Finwe and his second wife Indis. He married Anaire who bore him two sons, **Fingon **(Quenya name is Findekano) and **Turgon** (Quenya name is Turucano). She also bore him a daughter A**redhel.**

**The Avari... ** Avari (singular _Avar_) is a Quenya word meaning 'Refusers' or 'Recusants'. When the Vala Oromë found the Elves who had awakened in Cuiviénen, he asked them to come with him to Valinor. All the Elves of the First Clan (Vanyar) and many of the Elves of the Second and Third Clans (Noldor and Teleri) were persuaded to follow Oromë into the West on a Great Journey. The remainder of the Elves of the Second and Third Clans remained suspicious of the Lords of the West, seeing them only in their wrath, or they simply refused to depart from their own lands. They were after known in Quenya by the name _Avari_ because they refused the summons. Later, they spread throughout the wide lands of Middle-earth.

**Makalaure... **The Quenya form of Maglor, second son of Feanor and brother to Maedhros (Maitimo).

**Yavanna Kementári** … (Quenya Tengwar; Yavanna - "Giver of Fruits"; Kementári -"Queen of the Earth") was a Valar and was responsible for the growth of all the fruits and growing things of the world of Arda. She was also called **Palúrien** and was the wife of Aulë. She resided in the Pastures of Yavanna, in the south of Valinor.

**Osiris**... also **Usiris**; the Egyptian language name is variously transliterated **Asar**, **Asari**, **Aser**, **Ausar**, **Ausir**, **Wesir**, **Usir**, **Usire** or **Ausare**) is an Egyptian god, usually identified as the god of the afterlife, the underworld and the dead.

**Set.**.. (also spelled **Seth**, **Setesh**, **Sutekh**, **Setekh** or **Suty**) was in Ancient Egyptian religion, a god of the desert, storms, and foreigners. In later myths he was also the god of darkness, and chaos.


	10. An unexpected gift

**Disclaimer:**** I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them ****belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.**

**Author Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews. In the quote below Holland Manners does of course work for the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, aka Wolfram and Hart, aka the Senior Partners.

ooOoo

" **Angel**: You're not gonna win.  
**Holland Manners**: Well... no. Of course we aren't. We have no intention of doing anything so prosaic as "winning." [_laughs_]  
**Angel**: Then why?  
**Holland Manners**: I'm sorry. Why what?  
**Angel**: Why fight?  
**Holland Manners**: That's really the question you should be asking yourself, isn't it? See, for us, there _is_ no fight. Which is why winning doesn't enter into it. We go on, no matter what. Wolfram and Hart has always been here on Earth... in one form or another. The Inquisition. The Khmer Rouge. We were there when the very first cave man clubbed his neighbour on the head with a rock for stealing his dinner. See, we're in the hearts and minds of every single living being. And that, friend, is what's making things so difficult for you. You see, the world doesn't work in spite of evil, Angel. It works with us. It works _because_ of us."

_**- Angel the series**_

ooOoo

**The Hellmouth**

**Chapter 10 – An unexpected gift**

**A few hours earlier... **

Kiril felt nervous despite the presence of his old acquaintance who was definitely at home in this house of light. Despite the absence of Eönwë the house still reeked of light and purity, probably from the half Maiar children who Kiril knew were still asleep upstairs and the quiet vigilance of the two Elves who stood quietly in the kitchen while he collected himself enough to say why he was there.

_Damn it_. He thought frantically to himself._ Elves really do bloody well glow! _

His thoughts were distracted and not least because of the small package currently secured deep in his inside pocket. His instructions had been clear... he was to take it to the Herald of Manwë who was currently in human form as the General Officer Commanding Four Division in Aldershot and give it to him and _no-one_ else. Those instructions had been given to him by the emissary of three of the most feared of demon-kind... but they were not demons. In fact _nobody_ really knew what the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart actually were, but _nobody_ from the supernatural world crossed them; not if they wanted to _remain _alive and kicking or in the case of vampires...undead and kicking.

He shuddered then caught the calm gaze of the Elf with the long, very light blond hair, Haldir? Yes Haldir. Haldir with the pale blue eyes like chips of ice in his eye sockets and who was beautiful in the way of all of his kind. Kiril had no doubt that if he made any kind of move that Haldir or the dark haired Elf perceived was dangerous he would be sent into that final death without hesitation and if he was being honest with himself, if the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart were involved with this latest débâcle, he almost found the idea appealing.

However, be that as it may, there it sat, burning a hole in his pocket; an innocent looking small package.

"Take it to the Herald of Manwë." The emissary had drawled. "Tell him it's a gift from the Senior Partners." Then he had leaned in close to Kiril. "And make sure _nobody_, other than him is foolish enough to open it. My bosses went to a great deal of trouble to obtain it."

The Herald's wife leaned forward across the table and interrupted his chaotic thoughts. "You say you have an urgent need to see my husband, but unfortunately he isn't here. He's had to travel up north... to Scotland. If you give me your message I can see that he gets it."

Kiril shook his head. "Not just a message my Lady. I am deliver him a small package."

Maksim shrugged elegantly. "You could leave it with Lady Kim Kiril. She will make sure he gets it."

"No." The reply was polite, but peremptory and final.

Maksim stiffened. "No? Kiril, you are hardly in a position to dictate at the moment. What can be so important about a package that you cannot tell either Lady Kim or myself?"

"What is in the package?" The dark haired Elf spoke for the first time. Kiril absently thought that he had never heard anything as musical as the voice of the Elf in his entire life.

He shook his head. "I know not. I only know that my instructions were to deliver it into the hands of the Herald of Manwë."

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Instructions? Instructions from who?"

Kiril looked her straight in the eyes and she could see some of his great fear lurking at the back of them. "Lady, do you know who the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart are?"

Kim and the Elves just looked confused but Maksim had really stiffened now and Kim noticed that his hand was gripping the table edge so tightly that his knuckles were bone white.

"What do_ they _have to do with this?" Maksim ground out between his teeth. Kim could see a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Who are they?" She whispered, looking at Maksim, but Kiril knew the question was aimed at him. He licked his dry lips.

"Would it be possible to... er... perhaps some water?" He said.

The dark haired Elf poured him a glass of cold water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. He nodded his thanks, gulped it down almost in one go and leaned back in the chair.

"They are very powerful demonic presences Lady." He finally said. "They operate in many dimensions, including the one this world... earth... is in. They control much of it and even though humans believe that they run things, they do not. Here on earth they are known as the Senior Partners. You may have heard of their law firm, Wolfram and Hart? There are many branches in all the major cities here on this planet and from there they run their operations here. They are greatly feared by all supernatural beings and also those humans who are in league with them."

Kim frowned. "That still doesn't explain why you are here with a package for my husband. He doesn't know these wolf, ram and hart people, or whatever they are."

The dark haired Elf started to busy himself with putting a kettle on and gathering tea things together. Kiril watched as he went to the smaller refrigerator and got out a bottle of blood and also two mugs from the kitchen cupboard. Eventually when the cups and the gently steaming teapot were on the kitchen table and a mug of warm pig's blood was placed in front on him, Kiril eventually answered Kim.

"I don't believe that your husband has actually _met _the Senior Partners in person Lady Kim. It is unlikely that one of the beings of light from the Timeless Halls, as your husband is, would be afraid of them or would have cause to meet with them, and they would definitely be wary of him and his light." He took an appreciative sip of the blood. "In any case, the last time they appeared in person on earth, every single supernatural being felt their fell presence. They are _wholly_ evil; darkness personified. On that occasion they waged a bloody and vicious war for this planet with the creatures who had inhabited it after the Old Ones had left or been imprisoned; creatures like vampires, werewolves and other half demons. Any humans who were caught up in it were slaughtered without mercy. As it happened, at that time there was also another one who also claimed Lordship over earth. He was known as the First Evil and the Elves knew him as Morgoth or Melkor. Eventually the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart made a very uneasy truce with Melkor and left, although many of the supernatural beings were left behind. Creatures like Maksim and myself, werewolves, shape-shifters, half-demons and of course humankind. Eventually they did return after Morgoth was taken by your husband and imprisoned in the Void and they established their own reign here. No, the Senior Partners would not stoop to bringing messages, but they_ do _have various emissaries or liaisons, the most recent of which is one of Wolfram and Hart's former employees, an American called Lindsey McDonald. I do believe you husband has met him, on at least two, if not more, occasions."

"And he was the one who came?" Maksim asked.

Kiril nodded. "Four nights ago he came to the postern gate of the stronghold. The guards did not wish to admit him, because they perceived the fires of hell in his eyes and the sulphurous stench of the Void around his person. They denied him, but he struck them down senseless with a mere wave of his hand and came up to the Great Hall. He explained who he was and who had sent him and then gave me the message and the package with the instructions to give them to your husband and none other than him. He stressed the importance of this."

Kim sighed and shook her head. "I do believe you Kiril, but it could be a bomb or _anything_. I really think we should take a look at what is inside before giving it to Eönwë, in fact I think that military security and the Chief of Staff would insist on it..."

Kiril jumped up in agitation before she could finish, causing Haldir, the dark haired Elf who was called Erestor and Maksim to immediately go for their weapons. "We cannot." He hissed and his great fear was very apparent. "The instructions were precise and believe me the consequences of disobeying the Senior Partner will be dreadful to behold if I was to allow the package to be opened. I _must_ give it to the Herald himself! Intact."

He sank back down in the chair and dragged his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

Maksim shot a look at Kim. "You need to call Eönwë Kim. Explain this situation to him. We cannot make this decision."

Kim pursed her lips and left the room, presumably to make the phone call to her husband. They all sat in silence sipping their tea and the vampires their blood whilst listening to the clock slowly tick the minutes away until her return about twenty minutes later.

"He says to send Kiril and the package up to Thistle Manor which is just outside the town of Loch Mairie. He's going to email directions and we're to lend Kiril a car if necessary." Kim sat back down at the table.

Kiril shook his head again. "That will not be necessary. I can move faster and in more secrecy than with a car."

The blond haired Elf, Haldir, spoke up for the first time. "This package, are we permitted to see it?"

Kiril looked doubtfully at him for a moment but then put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled an a very innocent looking, quite small package wrapped in plain brown paper. Maksim picked it up and examined it There was nothing on it; no marks and no writing. All in all, it was a rather disappointing anticlimax. He put it in the centre of the table and they all stared at it for a moment, as if expecting it to suddenly explode or do a little dance or even set itself on fire but it just sat there.

"What a disappointment." Kim said. She picked it up and poked and squeezed it while everyone else looked on in varying degrees of alarm and trepidation. Both Elves held their breath and it's certain that both Maksim and Kiril would have done so as well had they actually breathed at all. "It actually feels like a piece of jewellery in there. Only I have no idea why these people would send Eönwë jewellery." She finally announced after her poking and prodding was done. She placed it back on the table, much to the immense relief of everyone present.

"I would not wish to even hazard a guess, but I'm sure you could be right." Kiril said. hastily putting the package away back in his pocket. "Nevertheless I will be happier when it is in your good husband's hands Lady Kim."

Kim nodded and gulped her tea. "Ugh, it's a bit cold now." She took it over to the microwave and began to heat it up. "Oh by the way, someone called Dawn Summers just emailed me with directions for you to get to Thistle Manor, I printed it out for you."

She reached into the pocket of her jeans and handed Kiril a scrap of paper. Kiril examined it and saw that the directions were extremely comprehensive and that there was even a little map of the location.

He nodded briskly and stood up. "I think perhaps I should be on my way. I have a way to go and I wish to arrive tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"Do you need me to drop you anywhere Kiril?" Maksim asked quietly.

Kiril smiled at his former warrior. "That will not be necessary, but if you would be so good as to walk me back to the gate, I would be grateful of a few private words with you." He bowed to Kim and the two Elves. "Thank you for your hospitality Lady Kim, I am most grateful that you were able to help me in this matter." He nodded at her and the two Elves and left through the back door, the way he had come in. Maksim followed him out.

"I'll be back in a moment Kim."

They walked down the long gravel tree-lined drive towards the gate. A pale watery moon peeped out from some high ragged clouds and painted everything with a fitful light. Beyond the birch trees lining the drive Kiril could see more trees, tall pines this time. The whole area seemed deserted, but both vampires could clearly sense humans nearby.

"The guard." Maksim explained briefly when Kiril glanced at him in query. "This residence is in the main Garrison and the military guards do stags around here."

Kiril nodded. "Yet they would prove to be highly inadequate if anything of a supernatural nature were to attack." He said mildly.

Maksim grunted in assent. "There will be more of us soon. Thranduil, Elrond and the others should be returning in a couple of weeks."

They were only about a hundred yards from the gates of the residence and Maksim could see two of the soldiers who were on guard standing to one side of the gate and chatting to each other. He stopped suddenly and grasped Kiril by his arm.

"What is this about Kiril? _We_ all know that the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart are not good bedfellows. Where they are evil and darkness follow. What are they to do with all of this?" His sharp eyes pierced Kiril's face as if he was trying to read his thoughts.

To give Kiril his due, he stared him straight back in the eye. "Maksim, I know nothing other than I have already told you. However what I _will_ say to you is this; if these things you and the Herald and his people are involved in are _anything_ at all to do with the Senior Partners, then you must beware. They are _not_ known for their altruism. Any assistance they give directly must be taken with more than a pinch of caution. For as much as they give, they also demand much more in return and as you say, they make uneasy bedfellows. A pound of flesh to them is often _exactly_ that. They have an agenda my friend and I have a feeling that this all does not bode well for any of us."

Maksim dropped his hand. "Then you must ensure that these warnings are also given to Lord Eönwë when you see him."

Kiril smiled, but it was a smile entirely without humour. "I will indeed. Look after yourself and your charges well my friend, but I beg of you, be _very_ vigilant. I suspect we have not heard the last from the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart."

He turned, sped off away from the drive at a speed only a vampire could use and was swallowed up in the darkness of the trees. Maksim stood for a moment looking through the trees, then he turned and headed back to the house.

ooOoo

**Thistle Manor, Loch Mairie...**

Eönwë, Giles and the others listened quietly while Kiril recounted his conversation with both Lindsey McDonald and Kim and the others down in Aldershot. Eönwë sat for a while after the vampire had finished his tale with elbows resting on the large wooden library table and hands steepled under his chin; his eyes were closed and everyone waited for him to speak.

"I do agree that anything given to us by the Senior Partners is potentially suspect and we must be cautious. And where is this package?" He asked after a fairly long while. Everyone who was not seated around the table came closer, including Melkor who was most curious to see what the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart had sent to the Herald of Manwë.

Kiril reached into his pocket and placed it carefully on the table in front of Eönwë who observed it for a moment.

"Normally, the giving of presents is a good thing, but I'm thinking not in this case." Buffy observed.

"Does something given by creatures straight from Hell even _qualify_ as a present?" asked Xander.

Eönwë looked up at Kiril. "The emissary told you that it was something to aid us in our efforts, and remember that the Senior Partners are as much at danger here as everyone else. If this is an attempt by one of the Ainur to take power, then they will not spare the likes of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart no matter how powerful they may think they are. One of my own kind gone rogue is an extraordinarily dangerous situation for all, as I am sure Melkor will attest. The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart are certainly not helping out of altruism, but they are trying to see to their own survival and that is the strongest instinct of all."

"He...the emissary said that they had gone to a great deal of trouble to obtain this... whatever it is." Kiril sighed. "He said that it was obtained from one of the circles of the Timeless Halls, so I must assume that whatever it is, it is imbued with celestial power, a power great enough to be of use."

"So are we going to open it?" enquired Dawn. "Or are we just going to sit and look at it until the cows come home?"

"I vote we open it." Xander agreed.

Eönwë looked and Giles and Osse who both looked hesitant.

"Well if we're all just going to sit here and look at it, we'll never know will we?" Buffy said stubbornly. "I vote with Xander and Dawn. Let's open it and see what we have. I mean it can't make things any worse can it. _Can_ it?" She looked pleadingly at Giles who shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not making any kind of statement about that." he demurred. "If it turns out to be bad you'll all blame me. This is Eönwë's call, not mine."

Eönwë took up the package and made a small tear in it with the sharp end of a paper knife. Everyone immediately withdrew back to a good few feet away from him and he laughed. "Thank you for the vote of confidence people." They all grinned back at him sheepishly. He made the tear bigger and finally with a tinkling clunk a heavy tarnished silver ring with a dull grey stone set into it dropped onto the table.

Everyone, including Kiril, held their breath, but the ring just lay there on the table.

"It's a ring." Xander sounded immensely disappointed.

Faith chuckled. "Way to state the obvious Xander!"

"A very _ugly_ ring." commented Willow.

"Oh for the sake of the Valar, are we _never _to be done with damn rings?" Celeborn muttered. "Why does it always have to be a ring?"

"I can already tell you that I have absolutely _nothing _in my wardrobe which will go with that." Buffy stated firmly.

Melkor gave a snort of laughter which made everyone else stare at him accusingly.

"What?" He sounded hurt. "Rings weren't my thing. If you want to accuse people about rings then Giles over there is probably your man."

"It's absolutely nothing to do with me." Giles said defensively before he could stop himself rising to the bait. "Anyway, at least my ring was a classic plain gold band, not an ugly looking silver thing with that hideous stone."

Elladan glared at him. He knew exactly who Giles had been, since Ereinion had filled him in on the situation soon after they reached the Manor. "Yes, a nice classic plain gold band with _all _of your malevolence poured into it..."

Finrod put a soothing hand on his arm and shook his head at Elladan who reluctantly subsided. However whatever diatribe he was about to let fly at the hapless and now very embarrassed Giles was interrupted anyway because Buffy burst into peals of laughter.

"Malevolence? _Giles?_" She giggled in disbelief and then looked at Willow. "_What does malevolence mean?"_ She whispered to her.

"_Extreme malicious evil._" Willow whispered back.

"There you are... Giles is _totally _not capable of extreme evil. Itty bitty evil perhaps, but nothing extreme." Buffy folded her arms and glared at Elladan. Melkor gave another crow of laughter and she glared at him as well.

All Giles could do was hold his breath and hope that Buffy wasn't about to ask Elladan to elaborate on his statement and she didn't, she was too busy glaring at Melkor and he was too busy smirking back at her.

Eönwë decided to take action before the whole afternoon turned into one of those exhausting and pointless circular arguments that were apparently the norm here at the manor. He picked up the ring and turned it over in his hand.

"Does it feel magicky?" asked Willow coming to stand beside him.

Eönwë frowned at her. "Magicky?"

"Yes, you know, magic gives off vibes and auras. If you're attuned to the magicks then you can often feel them." She held her hand out for it and Eönwë reluctantly dropped it into her palm. After a few seconds of concentrating, she handed it back. "I can feel _something,_ but I'm not sure... sort of a life force of some kind, like there's something trapped in it."

Buffy was immediately alert. "Something? Maybe something evil?"

Willow shook her head. "I don't think so Buffy. It didn't feel evil _or_ good, I'm probably wrong, it was just a fleeting sensation."

"It sure is an ugly thing." Faith said from the depths of one of the armchairs by the fire. "And unless it shoots out death dealing rays like a ray gun designed to kill Big Bads, evil monsters and demons, I can't see how it's going to help us."

Buffy came to stand at Eönwë's other side and peered closely at the ring in the centre of his palm. She shrugged. "Hmm... maybe you have to wear it. You know, like the Ring in Lord of the Rings? Didn't that ring make you invisible or something? Or...or...if it _is _a ray gun whatchamacallit, then perhaps you have to wear it to make the ray thingies shoot out. Now that would be pretty cool."

"Well whatever you do, don't give it to Rupert to put on." snickered Melkor. Everyone ignored him, much to Giles's relief.

Eönwë held the ring between his thumb and forefinger, then he slid it onto the middle finger of his left hand.

"Oh crap... _that's_ done it." muttered Xander and Jim at the same time.

"Nothing's happening." remarked Finrod.

"It's glowing a little bit." Dawn commented from behind the safety of the armchair Faith was sitting on. "Can you feel anything?"

Eönwë shrugged. "A little tingle perhaps. There is some residual power here, but obviously something else is needed to trigger..."

Whatever he was about to say, never got said because the faint glow that Dawn had noticed suddenly blossomed into a bright light which completely enveloped the Herald.

Celeborn, Earendil and Finrod immediately all leaped forward but were stopped by Osse. "Leave him, do not touch him."

"But if he's hurt..." squeaked Dawn. "He may need help, we have to _do _something!"

Osse's eyes suddenly glazed over indicating to those who knew about mind-speaking that he was in communion with someone. After a second his eyes cleared. "He's fine. This is why they said only the Herald could open it and withstand the power held inside."

"Oookay..." Buffy sounded very doubtful. "So you wear the ring and it gives a glowy blinding light all around you. We're going to blind all the demons and monsters out there to death?"

"Or maybe blind 'em long enough for us to slice and dice 'em into Julienne demon B." Faith added cheerfully.

Buffy nodded. "There is that... We could make a tag team. He blinds 'em, we slice 'em."

"And Willow does a spell which turns 'em all to mush." Xander continued.

"Ew... why I do I always get the icky job?" Willow complained.

"Well it's a nice light show and all that." Dawn commented, ever practical. "But not much use really. Shouldn't we try to get him to come back or something?" She asked Osse.

"Wait... something is happening." Ereinion stepped closer to the glowing Herald. "There are other shadows within the light."

The Elves, Earendil, Jim and Osse immediately moved closer as well, as did both Buffy and Faith, all ready to tackle whatever might be ready to pop out at them.

The glowing ball of light brightened and then started to fade, only to brighten once again. The tall figure of the Herald became visible through the fluctuating bright glow and he opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the two vague shadows which seemed to be tussling inside the light also became more visible.

"..._bloody_ hell! Get your bloody great elbow out of my ribs you great poofter.."

"Dammit Spike... "

Buffy went as pale as death and stepped forward. "Spike? _Angel?_"

ooOoo

There was a moment's aghast silence, then Buffy stepped forward and socked Angel with a roundhouse punch that sent him spinning into Celeborn's arms. The Elf kindly set him on his feet while he rubbed his jaw gingerly and gave Buffy a hurt look.

"What the hell was that for?"

Xander was the first one to find his voice. "This... _this _is heaven's secret weapon against the bad evil angel? _Dead boy_ and his trusty sidekick? Well, I've really misjudged the Powers all this time. I see my mistake now ... I never credited them with a sense of humour!"

"Oy! Less of the sidekick. I'm _nobody's _bloody sidekick, least of all Captain Forehead 'I'm never done with the brooding' over there." Spike brushed down his leather coat and straightened his shoulders before Dawn leaped over to him with a scream of joy. He was nearly bowled over, but hugged her back as fiercely as she was hugging him, then he set her on her feet and took a critical look. "You've grown, lil' Bit. In fact you've grown into a beautiful woman."

"I hear he's just going by Angel now Spike." Faith grinned. She walked over to Angel and enveloped him in a bear hug. "When we got the word from LA, we heard you and the others didn't make it." Her voice was now husky with emotion.

Angel hugged her back. "We _didn't_ make it Faith." He said gently. "None of us made it, except for maybe Illyria and if she was destroyed then she wasn't sent to the same place we were."

"Wes and Gunn?"

Angel pulled a sorrowful face. "Not where we were either, but I did ask one of those grim looking sentinels if he... she or whatever they are... could find out. Apparently we were being held in the seventh circle of the Timeless Halls, wherever that is, until judgement. Wes and Gunn went to somewhere called the Halls of Waiting or something."

"So no Shanshu?" Giles asked quietly. (1)

Both Osse and Eönwë turned around and looked at him, then at each other. "I thought the Shanshu was scrapped a couple of ages ago." Osse said softly.

Eönwë nodded. "It was. The Scrolls of Aberjian, where the prophecy was eventually found, were actually fakes, planted by the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart in order to fulfil their own plans. "

"Wait...I did all of that for _nothing_?" Angel asked.

Eönwë smiled at him. "Not for nothing Angel. You are here are you not? And at the behest of the Timeless Halls. Your return was the will of Eru Iluvator."

"But... the Shanshu..." Angel sounded utterly bewildered and the emotion of the moment was utterly buried underneath Spike's shout of laughter.

"So _neither_ of us get to be a real boy? Oh that is bloody priceless... and utter bollocks at the same time come to think of it." He collapsed into the nearest chair, still chuckling to himself. "So I've been resurrected again have I? This is starting to be the recurring story of my life.. or death... or whatever." He patted his leather duster cloak, obviously looking for something. "Anyone got a smoke?"

"I like him." Finrod said conversationally to Celeborn and Earendil, who both laughed.

Buffy had been silent since punching Angel out. Her expression was both furious and bitter at the same time. Angel broke free from Faith's embrace and went up to her. He put both hands out in appeal, but she blindly waved him back.

"You didn't think to call?" Her voice broke and Angel could see the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes.

"I..." He couldn't think of anything adequate to say.

She pushed him hard and he bumped up hard against the table; the pain made him wince a little. "I thought you were _dead_." She pointed at Spike. "I thought _he _was dead, you just.. just let me think..." Finally the emotions were too much for her and she stood there trying to get her breath and them under control.

"I _was._..I _am._..well, I'm not at the moment." Angel stuttered. "Well actually, I'm not really sure what I am... what _we _are."

Buffy glared at him. "We could have helped. Why didn't you call and ask us for help?"

"Oh yeah." Angel's tone was bitter. "And that went down so well with you guys when we _did _call and ask for help."

"Hello? Working for an evil law firm and all that?" Xander interrupted and then wished he hadn't.

They both turned on him. "Nobody _asked_ you!"

Xander backed away. "Hokie dokey. This is me backing off now. Geez, can't a guy have an opinion?"

"Not when it's inappropriate and undiplomatic Xander." Giles commented dryly. "Buffy, that was my fault, I made a decision about that at the time which I admit may have been a bit harsh, but in my defence, at the time we had no idea why Angel Investigations had thrown its lot in with Wolfram and Hart..."

"We didn't..." Angel began to protest, but Giles waved him down.

"Angel, you have to admit that at the time it didn't look good and what with a rogue and mentally deranged Slayer on the loose, I had to make a command decision on it. If Wolfram and Hart _were _pulling your strings there was no way we could leave her in your hands."

"Oh and the bleedin' autopsy begins! Someone please stake me!" Spike rolled his eyes dramatically.

"You got a lot of volunteers here." Xander retorted with narrowed eyes.

Eönwë and Osse looked at each other and silently agreed that the whole thing was becoming quite painful, especially considering that they had a bad situation on their hands which wasn't being helped by everyone getting over-emotional.

"That's enough." Eönwë spoke quietly, but the tone of his voice brooked no disobedience from anyone. Buffy and Angel stopped dead in the middle of their argument and stared in shock at him, Giles and Xander immediately went silent, Spike looked at the Herald in complete surprise and Faith laughed. "In case it has escaped your notice we have rather a disturbing and very dangerous situation on our hands here and _this_ is why you are both back in the land of the living..." He addressed this to Spike and Angel who both had the grace to look embarrassed.

"There are things that need to come out and be discussed..." Buffy blurted out, but was stopped short by Eönwë.

"Those things are in the past Buffy. They are done with and the situations can never be redeemed or made good. I know that there are things in your past that perhaps you need to iron out, but this is neither the time nor the place. Er... well it's certainly not the time." Osse and Melkor both laughed at this juncture and the Herald glared at both of them.

"What the _hell_ do you know about what went on?" Buffy spat out, furious at being told what to do by someone who had no idea what any of them had gone through. She stabbed a finger at Eönwë regardless of Giles's frantic silent efforts to get her to quiet down. "What do _you _know about _any_ of the stuff we went through. The deaths of innocent people... my mom...Jenny...Tara. _You _were too busy sitting on your ass on your stupid cloud along with the rest of the time wasters that call themselves the Powers That Be. Don't..."

Eönwë interrupted her again. She took a step back since he seemed to have grown considerably in stature, although his dark blue eyes were still kindly. "Child, I know _exactly_ what is is you all went through. I was there for every single oath that any of you ever made and many were made during your long fight with evil. I recorded them all." He held out his hand and a large book and quill pen materialised out of thin air. "I am the Oath-keeper of Eru."

"_All_ of them?" Dawn and Xander both said in dismay. Spike went off into fresh guffaws of laughter and even Angel grinned weakly. For once Melkor was quiet, he hadn't known about Eönwë's task as given to him by the One and he was mentally going over every oath he had ever made.

"Wow... that was _so_ neat." Willow enthused, more entranced by the ease of the magic Eönwë had apparently just done rather than whether she'd made any oaths she might have regretted. "How did you do..." She then noticed that everyone was looking at her and blushed to the roots of her hair. "Not that I _need _to know... no sirree, not me. I really don't need to know how you conjured the book and the pen... and... you're not a witch as well as an angel are you?"

Xander sighed and put a finger against her lips. "Willow, enough of the babbling, you're scaring the nice Elves and Angels."

Buffy was silent. She had seen the compassion in Eönwë's eyes and she knew he was speaking the truth. There was nothing she could say. The wind had been totally taken out of her sails and she slumped down onto the nearest chair. Angel made as if to go to her, but Eönwë shook his head, so he stayed where he was. It was Giles who went to comfort his slayer.

"So now we are all quiet, perhaps Osse and I can go over our plans and fill Angel and Spike in as we go." Eönwë turned to Angel. "I understand that both you and Spike have been to the Deeper Well?"

Angel nodded. "We have bad memories of that." He said quietly. "It didn't end well for any of us, especially Fred."

Eönwë gently gripped his shoulder in sympathy. "You must not grieve for her or your friends, Wesley and Charles Gunn, they are both reunited with Fred in the Halls of Waiting. Lord Namo was gracious enough to allow Fred to wait there for them. When we have sorted out this mess here, they will go on and be judged by the One in the Timeless Halls and then they journey beyond the Circles of the Earth."

"I kinda thought I might like to have gone with them." Angel sighed.

"Your time will come child, but for now, your path lies a different way to theirs, as does Spike's."

Spike got up and wandered restlessly around the room, aware that Buffy's eyes were following him and that despite anything the big impressive and quite scary looking Power said to her, he knew full well she would find him and yell at him. Finally he turned to Eönwë and grinned.

"So... I'm guessing we got another Big Bad to fight. Am I right? So what are we here to fight. Demon? Demi-god? Hell-beast? No... it must be one of the Old Ones. No other reasons for heading to the Deeper Well is there?" His lips twisted into a smile of what could only be described as manic glee. "Nothing like a good fight for getting the circulation moving."

"Bit difficult since you don't have a circulation." Xander muttered.

Angel looked at Eönwë. "Maybe you'd like to fill us in on the situation. Nobody bothered to tell us where we were going or why when we were suddenly in that small force field together. Wasn't a pleasant position to be in...especially with him." He jerked his thumb across at Spike who immediately bristled.

"Yeah? Yeah? Well if you weren't such a bloody Nancy boy with the poofy hair and the poofy hair gel there might have been more room..."

"QUIET!" Eönwë thundered and both of them immediately subsided. He pointed at Angel. "You are with me... Spike, you will go with Osse and the Slayers to the Deeper Well. We will explain when we get there, we have no time to indulge in foolish and childish arguments." He glared at everyone else. "Does anyone need reminding of their task in this?"

There was a mad scramble of people rushing for weapons and packs. "No no... no reminding for me." Willow said brightly. She pointed at her bag all ready beside her. She reminded Eonwe of his daughter looking for approval and a gold star. "All the ingredients for my spells are right here Captain...um whatever you are."

Eönwë watched as everyone fell over each other in their efforts to be all present and correct, while Osse and the Elves stood also watching bemusedly with Melkor sniggering to himself. This was better entertainment than anything he'd had in...oh...at least a few thousand years.

Eönwë shook his head in despair. "The earth is clearly doomed."

Giles shot him a wicked smile. "Stop pinching my lines Eönwë!"

ooOoo

**T****he Shanshu Prophecy... **is a prophecy that appears in the fictional universe of the television series _Angel_. Contained in the Scrolls of Aberjian, the prophecy first appears in the episode "Blind Date" and is more fully revealed in the season finale of the show's first season, "To Shanshu in L.A.". The Shanshu Prophecy foresees the restoration of a vampire with a soul into a mortal human being.

**Angel... ** is an American television series, a spin-off of the television series _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. The series was created by _Buffy'_s creator, Joss Whedon, in collaboration with David Greenwalt, and first aired on October 5, 1999. Like _Buffy_, it was produced by Whedon's production company, Mutant Enemy.

The show details the ongoing trials of Angel, a vampire whose human soul was restored to him by gypsies as a punishment for the murder of one of their own. After more than a century of murder and the torture of innocents, Angel's restored soul torments him with guilt and remorse. During the first four seasons of the show, he works as a private detective in a fictionalized version of Los Angeles, California, where he and a variety of associates work to "help the helpless" and to restore the faith and save the souls of those who have lost their way. Typically, this involves doing battle with evil demons or demonically allied humans, primarily related to Wolfram & Hart, a demonic law firm, which, ironically, in later seasons they work "for". He also has to battle his own demonic nature.

Angel played Buffy's first love interest in the _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ series.

**Spike... ** was originally an unsuccessful aspiring poet in the Victorian era. Sired by the vampire Drusilla , William became "**William the Bloody**", an unusually passionate and romantic vampire. Alongside Drusilla and Angelus, William acquired the nickname Spike for his method of killing; in time he became noted for killing two vampire Slayers. In the 1970s, Spike acquired his trademark bleached blond Billy Idol haircut and leather duster. In 1997 Spike comes to Sunnydale hoping to kill a third Slayer, Buffy Summers, with whom he later forges an uneasy alliance. Over the course of _Buffy_, Spike falls in love with the Slayer and acquires a soul to prove himself to her, dying a hero in the _Buffy_ series finale before being resurrected in the fifth season of spin-off series _Angel_.


End file.
